




•I 

i 

/ 


Class 

Rnnk . 3^ ^ 

Copyright -'ilL 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

ii 




h mi 



* 


-4.'^ *■ 





V .. 


&■' ■ , ; ■ 


■V/v*. _ 

Jj* ^ * '< » t“^^TlflP 



r-r 


r m ■* .V 


•« . 4» *?<- ' 



4. t ■ >■ '-'.I ■FI 



'ij** * 

;>'7i 

I ' ^hd*iM \0 


t V 

'V r 

'4'’ 



iOi 



\ .' ' 



ll>v''.f7- * 
^ . ,;> -.v^ 


< •! 


• i 



anln ' ^ I' 4 ■ .vv, , V 


■ ‘S^i ''5^ 


'^'■'.t V j v,. \ 




Jt. t -t^ 

■ '7-li' ,:, .* 



#■ h' ■- Ifw 


■i "•' '.KM ' XV- 





■yf 


iA*<* 



yym 

y. .j )f.. V '.^.■.■■x?*o..-L«SBk^'*.-. »4 

W\ 



s , r:t 


ipf.'t- A •'.. 










With the Indians in the Rockies 




THE SHALE BEGAN SLIDING UNDER MY FEET (page 51) 



With the Indians in 
The Rockies 


BY 

JAMES WILLARD , SCHULTZ 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
^ GEORGE VARIAN 



BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
dlje Cambriti0e 

1912 




COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY JAMES WILLARD SCHULTZ 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


Published September iqiz 





CCU327043 


'iK 


THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
TO MY WIFE 

CELIA HAWKINS SCHULTZ 

WHOSE GOOD COMRADESHIP AND SYMPATHY 
HAVE BEEN MY GREATEST HELP 
IN WRITING THE TALE 


J 


♦ 








t 

4 


* 


f( 




< 


I 

i 


t 


• i 


i 


r 


i 


I 


iS 

< 

; } 

, 1 

I 

I 

• » 

i" 


•i 






I 


t 



r < 

I 


. r* 




Preface 


W HEN in the seventies I turned my 
back on civilization and joined the 
trappers and traders of the North- 
west, Thomas Fox became my friend. We 
were together in the Indian camps and trad- 
ing posts often for months at a time ; he loved 
to recount his adventures in still earlier days, 
and thus it was that I learned the facts of his 
life. The stories that he told by the even- 
ing camp-fire and before the comfortable 
fireplaces of our various posts, on long winter 
days, were impressed upon my memory, but 
to make sure of them I frequently took notes 
of the more important points. 

As time passed, I realized more and more 
how unusual and interesting his adventures 
were, and I urged him to write an account of 
them. He began with enthusiasm, but soon 
tired of the unaccustomed work. Later, how- 
ever, after the buffalo had been exterminated 
vii 


Preface 

and we were settled on a cattle-ranch, where 
the life was of a deadly monotony compared 
with that which we had led, I induced him 
to take up the narrative once more. Some 
parts of it he wrote with infinite detail ; 
other parts consisted only of dates and a few 
sentences. 

He was destined never to finish the task. 
An old bullet wound in his lung had always 
kept him in poor health, and when, in the 
winter of 1885, he contracted pneumonia, 
the end was quick. His last request was 
that I would put his notes in shape for pub- 
lication. This I have done to the best of my 
ability in my own old age ; how well I have 
done it is for the reader to judge. 

Brave, honest old Ah-ta-to-yi (The Fox), 
as the Blackfeet and frontiers-men loved to 
call him ! We buried him on a high bluff 
overlooking the valley of the Two Medicine 
River, and close up to the foothills of the 
Rockies, the “ backbone-of-the-world that 
he loved so well. After we had filled in the 
viii 


Preface 

grave and the others had gone, Pitamakan 
and I sat by the new-made mound until the 
setting sun and the increasing cold warned 
us also to descend into the valley. The old 
chief was crying as we mounted our horses. 

‘‘ Although of white skin,” he faltered, 
‘‘ the man who lies there was my brother. 
I doubt not that I shall soon meet him in 
the Sand-hills.” 

Ah-pun-i Lodge> 

February, 191a. 


Illustrations 


The Shale began sliding under my Feet 

(page 51) Frontispiece \y 

It toppled over with a Crash and lay still 14 

Again and again it rose 76 

PiTAMAKAN FIERCELY STRIKING A BlOW . . . 128 ^ 

The Avalanche burst into the Flat . . . 200 

I GRABBED THEM UP AND FOLLOWED HIM . . . 210*^ 


Reproduced from drawings by George Variany 
by permission of The Youth’s Companion, 



With the Indians in 
the Rockies 

CHAPTER I 

M y father kept a little firearm shop 
in St. Louis. Over it was the 
sign : — 

David Fox & Co. 

Wholesale & Retail Guns 
& Ammunition. 

Fine Rifles & Fowling Pieces 
Made To Order. 

** Co” on the sign stood for my uncle, 
Wesley Fox, who was a silent partner in the 
business. Longer than I could remember, he 
had been an employee of the American Fur 
Company away up the Missouri River. 

It was a great event in the quiet life of 
our little family of three when he came, as 


I 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

he did every two or three years, to pay us 
a short visit. He no sooner set foot in the 
house than my mother began to cook bread, 
cakes, puddings and pies. I have seen him 
make what he called a delicious breakfast on 
nothing but buttered toast and coffee. That 
was because he did not get any bread where 
he lived except on Christmas Day. Every 
pound of freight that went up the river 
above Fort Union in the company's keel- 
boats and bateaux was for the Indian trade, 
and there was no room for such luxuries as 
flour. 

While Uncle Wesley was with us, mother 
always let me put away my books, and not 
say any lessons to her, and I went with him 
everywhere in the town. That is what St. 
Louis was in those days — just a good-sized 
town. I liked best to go with him to the 
levee and see the trappers and traders coming 
in, their bateaux loaded down with beaver 
and other fur pelts. Nearly all these men 
wore buckskin clothes and moccasins, and 


2 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

fur caps of their own make. They all had 
long hair and big whiskers and mustaches 
that looked as if they had been trimmed 
with a butcher-knife. 

Every time my Uncle Wesley came out 
of the Far West he brought me a bow and 
arrows in a fine case and quiver; or a stone- 
headed war-club; real weapons that had 
killed buffalo and been in battles between 
the tribes. And once he brought me a Sioux 
scalp, the heavy braided hair all of four feet 
in length. When I asked him where he got 
it he laughed a little and said, “ Oh, I got it 
up there near Fort Union.” But I had seen 
my mother shake her head at him, and by 
that I knew that I was not to be told more. 
I guessed, though, that he had taken that 
scalp himself, and long afterward I found 
out that I had guessed right. 

One night I heard the family talking 
about me. I had been sent to bed and was 
supposed to be asleep, but as the door to my 
room was open and I was lying wide awake, 
3 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I could n’t help hearing. My mother was 
taking Uncle Wesley to task. You know 
that the presents you bring him only add to 
his interest in trapping and trading,” she 
said, ^‘and as it is, we don’t succeed very 
well in interesting him in his studies, and in 
the life we have planned for him.” 

“You know how our hearts are set on his 
going to Princeton,” said my father, in his 
always low, gentle voice, “ and then becom- 
ing such a preacher as his grandfather was 
before him. You must help us, Wesley. 
Show the boy the dark side of the plains 
life, the hardships and dangers of it.” 

In our little sitting-room there was a pic- 
ture of Grandfather Fox, a tall, dark man 
with a long wig. He wore a long-tailed coat 
with a tremendous collar, knee-breeches, 
black stockings, and shoes with enormous 
buckles. I thought that I should not like to 
be a preacher if that was the way I must 
dress. And thinking that, I lost the rest of 
what they were saying and fell asleep. 

4 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Uncle Wesley stayed with us only a few 
days that spring. He intended to remain a 
month, but one morning Pierre Chouteau, 
the head of the great fur company, came to 
our house and had a long talk with him, 
with the result that he left for Fort Union 
the very next day, to take the place of some 
one who had died there. 

So I went back to my studies, and my 
parents kept me closer at home than ever. I 
was allowed to go out on real play spells only 
for two hours on Saturday afternoons. There 
were very few American boys in the town 
in those days. Most of my playmates were 
French Creoles, who spoke very little Eng- 
lish, or none at all, so naturally I learned 
their patois. That knowledge was very use- 
ful to me in after days. 

I am going to pass over what I have to 
say now as quickly as possible, for even after 
all these years, and old as I am, the thought 
of it still hurts. In February of the follow- 
ing winter my father fell ill of smallpox and 
5 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

died. Then my mother and I took it, and 
my mother died also. 

I did not know anything about her death 
until many days after she was buried, and 
then I wanted to die, too. I felt that there 
was nothing in the world for me, until one 
day Pierre Chouteau himself came for me 
in his grand carriage, took me to his house, 
and kept me there until May, when my 
uncle arrived again in St. Louis. 

Uncle Wesley put on what we call a bold 
front ” when he came to me, but for all that 
I could see that he was very sad. We had 
just one talk about my future. ‘‘ I should 
like to carry out your father’s and mother’s 
plans for you, Tom,” he said. ‘^The only 
way to do it, so far as I can see, is to send 
you to Cynthia Mayhew, in Hartford, Con- 
necticut. She loved your mother, — they 
were just like sisters, — and I know that she 
would be glad to take care of you and see to 
your education.” 

I broke out crying, and said that if he 
6 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

sent me away from him I should die. How 
could he be so cruel as to send me far away 
among strangers ? And then I cried all the 
harder, although I was ashamed of myself 
for doing so. 

Uncle Wesley almost broke down himself. 
He gulped hard two or three times, and his 
voice was n’t steady as he took me on his lap 
and felt of my spindling legs and arms. 

Poor boy! You are weak,” he said. 
<‘Weak in body and low in mind. Well, 
we ’ll say no more about this matter of your 
education now. I ’ll take you up the river 
with me for a year, or until you get good 
and strong. But we ’ll pack your study books 
along, and a good part of your mother’s 
library, and you ’ll have to dig into them 
every evening after we get settled. Now 
that ’s fair, is n’t it ?” 

It was more than fair. My fondest dream 
was to be realized. I was actually to see the 
country and the Indians and the great herds 
of buffalo. There was nothing in St. Louis 
7 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

now to keep my uncle or make his stay there 
a pleasure. As quickly as possible he disposed 
of the little shop and its contents, and 
deposited the entire proceeds with the com- 
pany for me ‘‘for a rainy day,’’ as he 
said. 

On April lo, 1856, we left St. Louis on 
the Chippewa, a fine new boat that the com- 
pany had just bought. I was thirteen years 
old, and that was my first steamboat ride. 
As the stern-wheel craft swung out from the 
levee and steamed rapidly — as it seemed to 
me — up-stream, the novel experience gave 
me the keenest pleasure. I fairly hugged 
myself as I remembered that by the channel 
of the river it was more than two thousand 
miles to our destination. 

We no sooner left the Mississippi and 
turned into the more muddy waters of the 
Missouri than I earnestly begged my uncle 
to get his rifle out of the cabin and load it, 
so as to be ready to shoot buffalo. I was ter- 
ribly disappointed when he told me that 
8 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

many days must pass before we should see 
any of the animals. But to please me he 
brought the rifle to the cabin deck and fired 
a couple of shots at the sawyers in the river. 
Again he loaded the piece, and told me to 
shoot at one. 

‘‘ Even boys must know how to shoot 
where we are going,” he said. ‘‘Now take 
a fine sight at the end of that little sawyer 
and let ’s see how near it you can place a 
bullet.” 

I did as I was told and fired, after a long, 
wabbly aim; the water splashed just over 
the tip of the log, and a number of passen- 
gers clapped their hands and praised me. 

That shot began my training in shooting. 
Every day after that, until we got to the 
game country, I spent an hour shooting at 
different objects in the water and on the 
banks. One morning I fired at one of a pair 
of wild geese. The bird gave a flap or two 
of its great wings, its head dropped, and it 
floated inertly with the current. 

9 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

**1 killed it!” I shouted. “I killed it! 
Wasn't that a fine shot, uncle?” 

He was silent a moment, and then said 
gravely : — 

“ It was a thoughtless boy's shot. And I 
hope it will be the only one. A true hunter 
never takes the life of God's creatures need- 
lessly.” 

That was all he said, but the reproof was 
enough. I took it to heart, and all my life I 
have not only profited by it, but preached to 
others against the wanton taking of life. 

After passing St. Charles, Missouri, the 
ranches of the settlers were farther and far- 
ther apart, and in a few days we saw the last 
of them and were in the wild country. Game 
now became more and more frequent, espe- 
cially white-tail deer, of which we soon had 
some for the table. The boat was always tied 
to an island or to the shore at sundown, and 
during the short remainder of daylight we 
would all scatter in the near timber to hunt. 
A number of wild turkeys were killed, which 


lO 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

made us some fine feasts. On these occasions, 
however, I was only a follower of the hunt- 
ers. My red-letter day was yet to come. 

At Fort Pierre we saw a great number of 
Sioux Indians. Formerly a company post, 
it had been sold to the United States, and 
was now occupied by several companies of 
soldiers. Two days after leaving the fort, 
w<e sighted the first of the buffalo herds, a 
small band of bulls that splashed out of the 
river not far ahead of the boat, and took to 
the hills. About four o’clock that afternoon, 
the port engine breaking down, we had to 
make a long stop for repairs. As soon as we 
swung into the bank and learned that the 
boat would be tied there for the night, my 
uncle got out his rifle, and we went hunting. 

The timber bordering the river was half 
a mile wide, with an undergrowth of wil- 
low- and rose-brush so thick that we never 
could have penetrated it but for the game 
trails crossing it in every direction. From 
the looks of them, I thought that thousands 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

of animals must be living there. The trails 
were worn deep by their sharp hoofs. 

In places the earth was moist but hard, 
and there the tracks were plainly outlined. 
My uncle pointed out the difference in them 
. — how the tracks of the deer differed from 
those of elk, and how these differed again 
from the tracks of the buffalo. I was taught, 
too, that wolf tracks were longer than those 
of the mountain-lion, which were nearly cir- 
cular. Finally, I was asked to prove my 
knowledge. 

What made those tracks?” I was asked. 

I hesitated a moment, and replied that I 
thought buffalo had made them. 

‘‘ Right,” said my uncle. “They seem very 
fresh ; we will follow them.” 

The myriad tracks of different game, the 
mystery of the deep woods, the thought that 
hostile Indians might be there hunting us, 
all combined to excite me. My heart thumped 
rapidly and I found it difficult to breathe. I 
was afraid, and kept looking intently in all 


12 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

directions — even behind me, for I expected 
every moment to see something come charg- 
ing through the brush, either to rend us 
with sharp claws or to stick our bodies full 
of arrows. 

But nothing could have induced me to 
admit that I felt so ; gritting my teeth, I fol- 
lowed on uncertain legs, close at Uncle Wes- 
ley’s heels. So close was I that when he sud- 
denly stopped, I bumped into him, and then 
gave a little squeal of fright, for I thought 
that he had discovered something to justify 
my fears. 

SA-h-h-h!*' he cautioned, and reaching 
back and drawing me to his side, he pointed 
significantly ahead. 

We were only a few yards from the outer 
edge of the timber ; a hundred yards farther 
on were three buffalo bulls, standing motion- 
less on the open, sparsely grassed bottom-land. 
How big they were ! How majestic and yet 
uncouth they loomed before me ! They had 
apparently no necks at all. Forgetting en- 

13 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

tirely our purpose in coming there, I stared 
at them with intense interest, until my uncle 
passed me the rifle and whispered, ‘‘Take that 
farthest one. He is young and in good condi- 
tion. Aim low, close behind his shoulder.” 

My hands closed on the long-barreled, 
heavy weapon. Heretofore my boy strength 
had been sorely taxed to shoot with it, but 
now, in my tense excitement, it fairly leaped 
to my shoulder, and I was able to hold it 
steady. I pulled the trigger. 

Bang! A thick cloud of powder smoke 
drifted into my face, and then passed on, and 
I saw two of the bulls running across the 
bottom ; the other was swaying, staggering 
round and round, with blood streaming from 
its mouth. Before I could reload, it toppled 
over with a crash and lay still. 

I stood staring at the animal like one in 
a dream ; it was hard to realize that I had 
actually killed it. Uncle Wesley broke my 
trance by praising the shot I had made, and 
added that the animal was in fine condition 
H 




IT TOPPLED OVER WITH A CRASH AND LAY STILL 






With the Indians in the Rockies 

and would weigh all of a ton. He had me 
lie down on it, my feet even with its fore 
feet, and I found that I could not reach the 
top of its withers, or rather, its hump : its 
height had been more than six feet. 

I now got my first lesson in skinning and 
butchering one of these great animals. With- 
out axe or windlass, or any of the other 
things regarded as indispensable by farmers 
and by professional butchers, the old-time 
plainsmen made a quick and neat job of 
this work with only a common butcher- 
knife. 

First, my uncle doubled up the bull’s fore 
legs and straightened back the hind ones. 
Then, little by little, he twisted the great 
head sharply back beside the body, at the 
same time heaving up the back, and in a mo- 
ment or two the animal lay prone on its belly, 
propped up in that position by the head. If 
the skin had been wanted, the rolling-up of 
the animal would have been reversed, and it 
would have lain on its back, legs up, and as 

15 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

in the other way, propped in position by the 
bent-back head. 

After making an incision along the back 
from head to tail, he skinned both sides down 
to the ground, and even under the body, by 
propping the head one way and then another, 
and slanting the carcass so that there was 
knife room beneath. At last the body lay 
free, back up, on the clean, spread-out 
skin. 

The choicest part of it was the so-called 
‘‘ hump,” or in frontier language, the “ boss 
ribs.” These dorsal ribs rose gradually from 
the centre of the back to a length of twenty 
inches and more just above the point of the 
shoulders, and were deeply covered with rich 
tenderloin. 

It took but a moment to get the set off. 
Uncle Wesley cut an incision along each side 
at the base of them ; then he unjointed a hind 
leg at the gambrel-joint, and with that for a 
club he hit the tips of the ribs a few blows, 
causing them to snap off from the back-bone 

i6 


With the Indisuis in the Rockies 

like so many pipe-stems, and the whole hump 
lay free on the hide. 

Next, he removed the legs with a few deft 
cuts of the knife, and laid them out on the 
clean grass; unjointed the backbone at the 
third rib and removed the after part ; severed 
the neck from the big ribs, cut them apart at 
the brisket, and smashed one side of them free 
from the backbone with the leg club, and 
there we had the great animal divided in 
eight parts. Lastly, he removed the tongue 
through an incision in the lower jaw. 

“ There,” said he, when it was all done, 
now you know how to butcher. Let ’s hurry 
to the boat and get the roustabouts to carry 
in the meat.” 

From this point on, there were days at a 
time when we saw no Indians, and the vari- 
ous kinds of game animals were more and 
more plentiful and tame. At last, several days 
after passing Fort Clarke, we came to the 
American Fur Company’s greater post. Fort 
Union, situated on the north bank of the 

17 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

river about five miles above the mouth of 
the Yellowstone. 

It was begun in 1829, under the direction 
of the factor, Kenneth McKenzie, and fin- 
ished in 1832. A stockade of logs ten or 
twelve feet long, set up on end, side by side, 
protected the buildings, and this, in turn, 
was commanded by two-storied bastions, in 
which cannon were mounted at the north- 
east and southwest corners. 

When we approached the place, a flag 
was run up on the staff of the fort, cannon 
boomed a welcome, and a great crowd of 
Indians and company men, headed by the 
factor, gathered at the shore to greet us. 
My uncle and I were escorted to the two- 
story house which formed the rear of the 
fort, and in which were the quarters of the 
factor and clerks. 

I learned afterward that distinguished 
guests had been housed there : George Catlin, 
the painter and philanthropist, in 1 8 3 2 ; Max- 
imilian, Prince of Neuwied, in 1833; and 
18 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Audubon, the great naturalist, in 1843. 
of them published extremely interesting ac- 
counts of what they saw and did in the Up- 
per Missouri country, which I commend to 
the reader, Maximilian’s ‘‘ Travels in North 
America” especially; for I went up the river 
from Fort Union just as he did, and there 
had been practically no change in the con- 
ditions of the country from his time to mine. 
Maximilian gives a wonderfully accurate and 
vivid description of the remarkable scenery 
of the Missouri, without question the most 
strangely picturesque river in America, and 
probably in the world. 

My Uncle Wesley was a valued clerk of 
the American Fur Company. He was sent 
from one to another of their Far Western 
forts, as occasion for his services arose, and 
frequently he was in full charge of a post 
for months at a time, while the factor went 
on a trip to the States. When we arrived 
in Fort Union he was told that he must go 
on to Fort Benton, where the factor needed 

19 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

his help. At that time, since the company’s 
steamboats went no farther than Fort Union, 
all the goods for the posts beyond were sent 
in keel-boats, or bateaux. It was not until the 
summer of 1 860 that the extreme upper river 
was found to be navigable, and on July 2 of 
that year the Chippewa and the Key West ar- 
rived at Fort Benton. 

A keel-boat was lying at Fort Union when 
we arrived there ; it was waiting for part of 
the Chippewa’s cargo of ammunition, guns, 
and various trade goods, mostly tobacco, red 
and blue cloth, brass wire for jewelry, Chin- 
ese vermilion, and small trinkets. These 
were soon transferred, and we resumed our 
voyage. Uncle Wesley in charge of the boat 
and crew. The Minnie was sixty feet long, 
ten feet wide, and was decked over. The 
crew consisted of thirty French-Canadian 
cordelliers, or towmen, a cook, a steersman 
and two bowmen, and a hunter with his 
horse. In a very small cabin aft there were 
two bunks. Forward there was a mast and 


20 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

sail for use when the wind was favorable — 
which was seldom. There was a big sweep 
oar on each side, and a number of poles 
were scattered along the deck to be used as 
occasion required. In the bow there was a 
four-pound howitzer, loaded with plenty of 
powder, and a couple of quarts of trade balls, 
in case of an attack by Indians, which was 
not at all improbable. 

By the channel it was called eight hundred 
miles from Fort Union to Fort Benton, where 
we hoped to arrive in two months. After 
the first day’s experience, I thought that we 
should be fortunate if we reached the place 
in two years. From morning until night the 
cordelliers toiled as I had never seen men 
toil before. It was a painful sight, those 
thirty men tugging on the long tow-rope as 
they floundered through water often waist- 
deep ; through quicksand or mud so tenacious 
that the more unfortunate were dragged out 
of it gasping for breath and smeared with the 
stuff from head to foot. They frequently lost 


21 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

their footing on steep places and rolled down 
into deep water; banks of earth caved upon 
them; they were scratched and torn by 
rose-brush and bull-berry thorns ; they were 
obliged to cut trails along the top of the 
banks in places, and to clear a way for the 
boat through dense masses of sawyers and 
driftwood. 

A day or two after leaving Fort Union 
we narrowly escaped losing the boat, and 
the lives of all of us who were on it, in the 
treacherous swirling current. At the time 
the cordelliers were walking easily along a 
sandy shore under a high bank. Ahead of 
them, at the edge of the water, lay a dead 
buffalo bull, its rump partly eaten by the 
prowling animals. When the lead-man was 
within a few feet of it a big grizzly sprang 
toward him from the other side of the car- 
cass, where it had lain asleep. The men 
dropped the rope and with loud cries sprang 
into the water, since they could not climb 
the bank. The boat at once turned broad- 


22 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

side to the swift current, drifted against two 
sawyers, and began to turn turtle. The lower 
rail was already under water, and the horse 
had lost its footing and tumbled overboard, 
where it hung strangling, when by the great- 
est good fortune first one and then the other 
of the sawyers snapped under the strain, and 
the boat righted and swung in to the bank. 
We now had time to see what was going on 
above. The bear was just leaving the oppo- 
site shore and making for the timber; the 
men, dripping from their hasty bath, were 
gathered in a close group near the carcass, 
and were talking and gesticulating as only 
Frenchmen can. We suspected that some- 
thing was wrong, and while the bowmen 
made the boat fast, the rest of us hurried up 
the shore. The group parted at our approach 
and disclosed one of their number — the 
lead-man on the rope — lying moaning on 
the sand. The bear had overtaken and 
mauled him terribly, and then, frightened 
probably by the loud cries of so many men, 

23 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

it took to the river and swam away. We 
got the wounded man aboard at once, and 
my uncle set his arm and made him as com- 
fortable as possible. The hunter had saved 
his horse by cutting its rope and swimming 
with it to a landing far down stream. As 
soon as the tow-line was recovered we went 
on, thankful that the accident had been no 
worse. 

Yet through it all they were cheerful and 
happy, and at the evening camp-fire my 
uncle was frequently obliged to speak harshly 
to keep them from shouting their voyageur 
songs, that might have brought some prowl- 
ing war party of Indians down on us. The 
food of these men was meat — nothing but 
meat, washed down with a little tea. Some- 
times they managed to dig a few pommes 
hlanchesy white, edible roots that were very 
palatable when roasted in the coals. Uncle 
Wesley and I had a box of hard crackers 
and a few pounds of flour and sugar. When 
they were gone, he told me, we should have 

24 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

no more until we sat down to our Christmas 
dinner. That did not worry me; I thought 
that if big, strong men could live on meat, 
a boy could, too. 

The river wound like a snake through the 
great valley. There were long points only a 
mile or two across by land, but many times 
that distance round by the channel. Some- 
times when we came to such a place Uncle 
Wesley and I would hunt across the bottom 
and then wait for the boat. On these trips I 
killed my first deer and elk and antelope — 
not to mention several more buffalo. 

But Uncle Wesley was always uneasy when 
away from the boat; he was responsible for 
it and its cargo, which was worth more than 
a hundred thousand dollars in furs. Should 
anything happen to it while he was away 
from it, even for an hour’s hunt, his hope of 
eventually becoming a member of the great 
company would have to be given up. Finally, 
after minute instructions in the proper 
handling of the rifle, I was allowed to ac- 
25 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

company the hunter on his daily quests for 
meat. 

Baptiste Rondin was a dreamy, gentle little 
Creole from Louisiana. He came from a good 
family, had not been taught to work, and had 
hated books, so he told me. So when mis- 
fortune came to his family, and he had to do 
something, he chose the position he now held 
in preference to others with more pay which 
the Chouteaus had offered him. When we 
started out in the morning, I would climb up 
behind him on the gentle old horse, and we 
would ride for miles up one side or the other 
of the river. We always saw various kinds 
of game soon after leaving the boat, but never 
attempted to kill any until some was found 
convenient to the shore of the river, where 
the boat could land and the meat easily be 
taken aboard. 

Besides looking for game, we examined 
every dusty trail, every mudflat and sandbar, 
and constantly scanned the bottoms and the 
hills for signs of Indians. They were the great 
26 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

terror of the cordelliers; often a boat's crew 
was surprised and killed, or the cargo was 
destroyed. 

We tied up one night four or five miles 
below the mouth of the Musselshell River, 
which my Uncle W esley said Lewis and Clark 
had so named on account of the quantities of 
fossil shells that are found there. 

Early the next morning Baptiste saddled 
the old horse, and we started out to hunt at 
the same time that the cordelliers hauled the 
rope tight and began their weary tramp. 

We came to the lower edge of the big bot- 
tom at the mouth of the Musselshell. Oppo- 
site the mouth there was a heavily timbered 
island. One small band of antelope was the 
only game in sight between us and the Mus- 
selshell. On the other side of it, at the upper 
end of the bottom and close to the Missouri, 
there were a couple of hundred buffalo, some 
feeding, some lying down. 

They were so far away that we rode boldly 
through the tall sage-brush to the little river, 
27 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

and across it to the outer edge of the strip of 
timber. There Baptiste told me to remain 
with the horse while he crept out to the herd 
and made a killing. I did not like being left 
alone. There were many fresh grizzly tracks 
on the river sands just behind me, and I was 
afraid of the terrible animals, so afraid that I 
did not dare to dismount and gather some 
strawberries which showed in the grass at the 
horse’s feet. 

The passing minutes seemed hours. The 
tall sage-brush out ahead had swallowed Bap- 
tiste. By rising in the stirrups I could just see 
the backs of some of the distant buffalo. A 
sudden splash in the river made my heart 
flutter, and I quickly turned to see what had 
caused it. 

Here and there between the trees and brush 
its glistening surface was in plain view, and 
through one opening I saw something more 
terrible than a whole band of grizzlies : an 
Indian crossing toward me. I saw his face, 
painted red with blue bars across the checks ; 
a8 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I noted that he wore leather clothing ; that a 
shield hung suspended from his left arm ; 
that in his right hand he grasped a bow and 
a few arrows. 

All this I noted in an instant of time ; and 
then nearer to me, and more to the right, a 
stick snapped, and I turned my head to see 
another Indian in the act of letting an arrow 
fly at me. I yelled and gave the horse such 
a thump with the stock of my rifle that he 
made a long, quick leap. That was a lucky 
thing for me. The arrow aimed at my body 
cut through my coat sleeve and gashed my 
left arm just above the elbow. 

I yelled frantically for Baptiste and urged 
the horse on through the sage-brush. I looked 
back, and saw that Indians all up and down 
the stream were leaving the timber and run- 
ning toward me. I looked ahead and saw 
the smoke of Baptiste's gun, heard the re- 
port, saw the buffalo bunch up and then 
scurry westward for the nearest hills. 

The thought came to me that I could pick 
29 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the hunter up, and that the old horse would 
easily carry us beyond the possibility of an 
attack by Indians afoot. That hope was shat- 
tered a moment later. The buffalo suddenly 
circled and came back into the bottom, and I 
saw that they had been turned by some In- 
dians at the edge of the hills. Indians were 
strung out clear across the flat, were leaping 
through the sage-brush toward us, and shout- 
ing their dreadful war-cry ; they were hem- 
ming us in on the south, and the great river 
cut off our retreat to the north. 

I urged the old horse on, determined to 
reach Baptiste and die by his side, but the 
Indians who had appeared on the hills were 
now quite near him. I saw him raise his 
rifle and fire at the one in the lead, then turn 
and run a few steps and spring from the 
high cut-bank into the river. But just be- 
fore jumping he paused, and raising a hand, 
motioned to me to turn back. 

To turn back ! Accustomed to obeying 
him, I sawed on the bridle and the horse 

30 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Stopped. I looked over my shoulder, and 
saw that the nearest of the Indians were not 
three hundred yards from me. In my dis- 
tress I cried, ‘‘ What shall I do ? Oh, what 
shall I — what can I do to escape ? 


CHAPTER II 


I DO not know why I cried out. Of course 
there was no one to answer, to advise, or as- 
sist me. I have often noticed that in times 
of stress men shout the questions that they 
ask themselves. Why had Baptiste motioned 
me to go back, when by doing so I must run 
right into the Indians? I must have mis- 
understood his signal. Clearly, my only 
chance of escape was the same as his, and that 
was by the river. 

Pummeling the old horse with rifle-stock 
and heels, I headed him for the stream. Not 
straight toward it, where the bank was appar- 
ently very high, but obliquely, toward a point 
not far above the mouth of the Musselshell. 
There the bank was certainly not high, for 
the tips of water-willows peeped above it. 

In a few moments I was close enough to 
look over it. Between the narrow strip of 
willows and the edge of the water there was 

32 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

an oozy mudflat, fifty yards wide, impassable 
for man or horse. 

I looked back at the enemy, and saw that 
when I had turned downstream, those toward 
the upper end of the bottom had given up the 
, chase, while the rest had turned with me and 
run faster than ever. Thus there was a wide 
gap between the two parties, and I circled 
toward it, as my last chance. First up the river 
for several hundred yards, then straight south, 
away from it. Both parties immediately per- 
ceived my intention, and spurted to close the 
gap. Harder and harder I thumped the horse, 
although by this time he had waked up, and 
was entering into the spirit of the flight. The 
distance between the two parties of Indians 
was now not more than three hundred yards, 
and I was more than that from the point for 
which we all were heading ; but to offset this 
I was covering the ground much faster than 
they were. 

The Indians were now yelling frightfully, 
to encourage one another to greater speed. I 
33 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

could see their painted faces, and a little later 
their fierce eyes. 

The gap was very small now ; they began 
shooting, and several pieces of lead ripped by 
me with the sound of tearing paper. I did not 
try to use my rifle. In that first experience 
there was no anger in my heart against the 
enemy, nothing but fear of them. 

I felt, rather than saw, that they would be 
unable to head me off, if only by a narrow 
margin, and I bent low over the horse to make 
myself as small a target as possible. More guns 
boomed close on each side of me. Arrows 
whizzed, too, and the shaft of one struck my 
rifle-stock, glanced from it, and cut the skin 
on the back of my hand. That was when I 
passed right between the two parties. 

In a dazed way, I kept urging the horse on, 
until presently it dawned on me that I was 
past the danger point. Having looked back 
to make sure of this, I changed my course, 
crossed the Musselshell, and went on down 
the bottom, and then along the shore of 
34 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the river several miles, until I came to the 
boat. 

When the cordelliers saw me returning in 
such haste, they knew that something was 
wrong. They ceased towing, and let the boat 
drift in to the bank, in such a position that I 
rode right on the deck. I was still so fright- 
ened that it was difficult forme to talk, but my 
uncle, guessing the parts of the story which 
I omitted, ordered all the men aboard. In a 
few minutes we were at the other shore of the 
river. 

The cordelliers objected to going on with 
the tow-line, but my uncle was firm that they 
should start without delay, and they did. The 
steersman, an old and tried employee, was 
sent ahead of them to scout, and Uncle Wesley 
took his place at the sweep. The howitzer 
was freshly primed, and one of the men in- 
structed to stand by, ready to aim and fire it. 
I was anxious about Baptiste, and although 
my uncle told me not to worry, I doubted if 
we should ever see him again. 

35 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

In a couple of hours we arrived off the is- 
land opposite the mouth of the Musselshell, 
and lo ! Baptiste came out of the brush at the 
lower end of it, and signaled us to take him 
aboard. That was done with the skiff. As 
soon as he came on deck he ran to me, in 
his impetuous French way, gave me a hug 
and a thump on the back, and exclaimed, It 
is my brave boy ! And he is safe ! One little 
wound in the hand ? That is nothing. Now, 
tell me how you made the escape.’’ 

But at this moment my uncle came to con- 
sult the hunter, and my story was deferred. 
I learned from Baptiste later that the Indians 
were Crees, probably on their way south, to 
raid the Crow horse herds. 

By this time we had passed the island. 
Baptiste was just asking us to note how high 
the cut-bank was from which he had jumped 
into the stream, when the whole party of 
Indians rose out of the sage-brush at the edge 
of it, and with much yelling, fired their guns 
at us. As the distance was three or four hun- 

36 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

dred yards, only a few of their balls struck 
anywhere near the boat. Uncle Wesley him- 
self sprang to the howitzer, swung it round, 
tilted up the barrel, and fired it. Some of the 
balls dropped into the water near the far 
shore, several spatted little puffs of dust out of 
the dry cut-bank, and others must have passed 
right among the war party. Anyway, the In- 
dians all ducked down and ran back from the 
bluff. We saw no more of them. 

Ever since leaving the mouth of the Yel- 
lowstone we had been passing through the 
extraordinary formation of the Bad Lands. 
From this point onward the scenery became 
more and more wonderful. Boy that I was, 
I was so deeply impressed with the strange 
grandeur of it all that the sensations I expe- 
rienced were at times actually oppressive. At 
every turn there was something to astonish 
the eye. There were gleaming white and 
gray turreted castles, perched high above the 
stream ; cities of clustering domes and towers 
and minarets, all wrought by the elements 
37 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

from sandstones of varying hardness, but all 
so apparently real as to suggest that men and 
women in mediaeval dress might pass out of 
the gates in the walls at any moment. 

We arrived at Fort Benton just ninety days 
after leaving Fort Union. The flag was raised 
and cannon fired in our honor, and more than 
five thousand Blackfeet, headed by the factor, 
Alexander Culbertson, and the employees of 
the fort, crowded to the river-bank to give us 
welcome. 

I was astonished to see so many Indians. 
I noticed that they were tall, fine-looking 
men and women; that they wore beautiful 
garments of tanned skins ; that their hair was 
done up in long, neat braids ; that many of 
the leading men shook hands with my uncle, 
and seemed glad to meet him. 

My uncle introduced me to that great man, 
the factor, who patted me kindly on the shoul- 
der. With him we went into the fort, where, 
just as we passed through the big gate, a tall, 
handsome Indian woman, wearing a neat 
38 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

calico dress, a plaid shawl, and beautifully 
embroidered moccasins, came running to us, 
threw her arms round my uncle, and kissed 
him. I must have looked as surprised as I 
felt, especially when I noted that he was very 
glad to meet her. Having spoken a few words 
to her, which I could n’t understand, he turned 
to me. ‘‘ Thomas,” he said, “ this is your aunt. 
I hope that you and she will become great 
friends.” 

I was now more surprised than ever, but 
tried not to show it as I answered, ‘‘Yes, sir.” 

At that the woman gave a smile that was 
pleasant to see, and the next instant she had 
me in her arms and was kissing me, smooth- 
ing my hair, and talking Blackfoot to me in 
her strangely clear and pleasant voice. My 
uncle interpreted. “ She says that she wants 
to be your mother now ; that she wants you 
to love her, to come to her for everything 
you need.” 

I do not know just what it was, — her 
voice, her appearance, the motherly feeling 
39 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

of her arms round me, — but there was some- 
thing about this Indian woman that made 
my heart go straight out to her. I gave her 
hand a squeeze, while tears came to my eyes 
as I snuggled up close to her. Right will- 
ingly I went with her and Uncle Wesley to 
the room in the far end of the long adobe 
building forming the east side of the fort, 
which he said was to be our home for a long 
time to come. 

It was the kind of room that gave one a 
restful feeling at sight. Opposite the door- 
way was a big fireplace of stone and adobe, 
with hooks above the mantel for rifles and 
powder-horns and ball-pouches. Two win- 
dows on the courtyard side afforded plenty 
of light. There were a strong table and 
comfortable chairs, all home-made. A settee 
covered with buffalo-robes was placed before 
the fire. A curtained set of shelves in the 
corner contained the dishes and cooking- 
utensils. The north end of the room was 
partitioned off for a sleeping-place. My bed, 
40 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I was told, would be the buffalo-robe couch 
under the window at the right of the door. 

The next day my uncle took me all round 
the fort and made me known to the different 
employees — clerks and tailors, carpenters 
and blacksmiths, and the men of the trade- 
room. The fort was a large one, about three 
hundred feet square, all of adobe. Entering 
the front gate, you saw that three long build- 
ings, of which the easterly one was two stories 
high, formed three sides of the quadrangle, 
and that a high wall containing the gate 
formed the fourth, or south side, facing the 
river. The outer walls of the buildings were 
thus the defensive walls of the fort. They 
were protected against assault by two-storied 
bastions, with cannon at the southeast and 
northwest corners. All the tribes of the North- 
west together could not have taken the place 
by assault without the loss of thousands of 
their force, and they knew it. 

Before night the keel-boat was unloaded, 
and our trunks were brought in and un- 

41 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

packed. My mother’s little library and my 
school-books filled a new set of shelves, and 
that evening I began, under my uncle’s di- 
rection, a course of study and reading, pre- 
paratory to going East to school in the fol- 
lowing year. 

No boy ever had a happier time than I had 
in that fort so far beyond the borders of civil- 
ization. Day in and day out there was always 
something worth while going on. Hundreds, 
and often thousands, of Indians came in to 
trade, and I found endless pleasure in min- 
gling with them and learned their language 
and customs. In this I was encouraged by 
Tsistsaki (Little Bird Woman), my uncle’s 
wife. She had no children, and all her natu- 
ral mother love was given to me. In her way 
of thinking, nothing that I did could be 
wrong, and the best of everything was not 
good enough for me. The beautifully em- 
broidered buckskin suits and moccasins she 
made for me fairly dazzled the eye with their 
blaze of color. These were not for everyday 
42 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

wear, but I took every possible occasion for 
putting them on, and strutted around, the 
envy of all the Indian boys in the country. 

The winter passed all too quickly. With 
the approach of spring my uncle began to 
plan for my long trip to St. Louis, and 
thence to the home of my mother’s Con- 
necticut friend, where I was to prepare for 
Princeton. I said nothing to him, but I had 
many talks with my aunt-mother, Tsistsaki ; 
and one night we poured out such a torrent 
of reasons why I should not go, ending our 
pleadings with tears, that he gave in to us, 
and agreed that I should grow up in the fur 
trade. 

A frequent visitor in our cozy room in the 
fort was a nephew of Tsistsaki, a boy several 
years older than I. We liked each other at 
sight, and every time we met we became firmer 
friends than ever. ‘‘ Friend ” means much 
more to Indians — at least, to the Blackfeet 
— than it does to white people. Once friends, 
Indians are always friends. They almost never 
43 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

quarrel. So it came to be with Pitamakan 
(Eagle Running) and myself. 

My uncle Wesley was as much pleased as 
his wife. One day he said to me, ‘‘Pitama- 
kan is an honest, good-hearted boy, and brave, 
too. He gets all that from his father, who is 
one of the very best and most trustworthy 
Indians in all this country, and from his 
mother, who is a woman of fine character. 
See to it that you keep his friendship.’" 

Except, of course, Baptiste Rondin, the 
hunter of the fort, Pitamakan was almost the 
only one with whom I was allowed to go 
after the buffalo and the other game which 
swarmed on the plains near by. What with 
my daily studies, occasional hunts, and the 
constant pleasure I had in the life of the fort, 
time fairly flew ; no day was too long. And 
yet, for four years, I never once went more 
than five miles from the fort. 

During this time my one great desire was 
to go on a trip into the Rocky Mountains. 
Clearly visible from the high plains to the 
44 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

north and south of the river, their pine-clad 
slopes and sharp, bare peaks always seemed 
to draw me to explore their almost unknown 
fastnesses. 

In the fall of i860 there came an oppor- 
tunity for me to do this. The Small Robes 
band of the Blackfeet, of which Pitamakan’s 
father. White Wolf (Mah-kwi'-yi ksik-si- 
num), was chief, outfitted at the fort for an 
expedition to trap beaver along the foot of 
the great mountains, and, much to my sur- 
prise and delight, I was permitted to accom- 
pany them. 

At this time there were ninety lodges — 
about six hundred people — of the Small 
Robes (I-nuk-siks) band of the Blackfeet. 
They had several thousand horses, and when 
the moving camp was strung out on the plain, 
the picturesque riders, the pack-animals laden 
with queerly shaped, painted rawhide and 
leather pouches and sacks, made a pageant 
of moving color that was very impressive. 

Our first camp after leaving the fort was 
45 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

on the Teton River. A couch was made up 
for me in White Wolfs lodge. The lodge of 
the plains Indians was the most comfortable 
portable shelter ever devised by man. One 
of average size was made of sixteen large cow 
buffalo-hides, tanned into soft leather, cut to 
shape, and sewed together with sinew thread. 

This cone-shaped ‘‘lodge skin” was 
stretched over tough, slender poles of moun- 
tain-pine, and the lower edge, or skirt, was 
pegged so that it was at least four inches 
above the ground. Within, a leather lining, 
firmly weighted to the ground by the couches 
and household impedimenta of the occu- 
pants, extended upward for five or six feet, 
where it was tied to a rope that was fastened 
to the poles clear round. There was a space 
as wide as the thickness of the poles be- 
tween the “ skin ” and the lining, so that 
the cold, outside air rushing up through it 
created a draft for the fire, and carried the 
smoke out of the open space at the top. 
This lining, of course, prevented the cold 
46 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

air from coming into the lower part of the 
lodge, so that even in the coldest weather a 
small fire was enough for comfort. 

Traveling leisurely up the Teton River, 
we came in three or four days to the foot of 
the great range. There we went into camp 
for several weeks, long enough for the hunt- 
ers to trap most of the beavers, not only on 
the main stream, but on all its little tribu- 
taries. Pitamakan and I had twelve traps, and 
were partners in the pursuit of the animals. 

From the Teton we moved northward to 
Back-Fat Creek, now Dupuyer Creek. From 
there we went to the Two Medicine wa- 
ters, and then on to the Cut-Bank River. 
The trapping area of this stream was small. 
On the first day of our camp there Pitama- 
kan and I foolishly went hunting, with the 
result that when, on the next day, we began 
looking for a place to set our traps, we found 
that all the beaver-ponds and bank-workings 
had been occupied by the other trappers. 

It was late in the afternoon, after we had 
47 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

followed up the south fork to a tremendous 
walled canon, where it was impossible for the 
beavers to make dams and homes, that we 
made this discovery. Our disappointment 
was keen, for from Cut-Bank the camp was 
to return to Fort Benton, and we had only 
thirty-seven of the fifty beaver pelts that we 
had planned to take home with us. 

We were sitting on a well-worn trail 
that stretched along the mountainside above 
the canon, when Pitamakan suddenly ex- 
claimed : — 

‘‘ Listen to me ! We will get the rest of 
the beaver! You see this trail? Well, it 
crosses this backbone of the world, and is 
made by the other-side people, — the Koo- 
tenays and the Flatheads, — so that they can 
come over to our plains and steal our buf- 
falo. You can see that it has not been used 
this summer. It will not be used at all now, 
since winter is so near. Now, down on the 
other side there are many streams in the 
great forest, and no doubt there are beavers 
48 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

in them. We will go over there to-morrow, 
and in a few days’ trapping we will catch 
enough to make up the number we set out 
to get.” 

This plan seemed good to me, and I said 
so at once. We left the traps on the trail 
and started to camp, to prepare for an early 
start in the morning. We decided to say 
nothing to any one of our intentions, to 
White Wolf least of all, lest he should for- 
bid our going. 

At dusk we picketed near camp two horses 
that we selected for the trip, and during the 
evening we refilled our powder-horns and 
ball-pouches to the neck. Rising the next 
morning before any of the others were awake, 
and each taking a heavy buffalo-robe from 
our bedding, we quietly left the lodge, sad- 
dled and mounted our horses, and rode 
away. Some dried meat and buffalo back fat 
taken from the lodge furnished us a substan- 
tial breakfast. 

The trail was plain and easy to follow. 

49 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We picked up the traps, and mounting 
steadily, arrived at the extreme summit of 
the great range not long after midday. From 
\vhere we stood, the trail ran slightly down- 
ward, along a narrow divide, across to the 
next mountain. The south side of the divide 
was a sheer drop of several thousand feet. 
The top was a narrow, jagged knife of rock, 
along which a man could not have passed 
on foot. On the north side the sharp reef 
dropped almost precipitously to a narrow 
and exceedingly steep slope of fine shale 
rock, which terminated at the edge of a pre- 
cipice of fearful depth. 

It was along this shale slope that the trail 
ran, but there were no signs of it now, for 
the tracks of the last horses that passed had 
been filled. Even while we stood there, 
small particles of shale were constantly roll- 
ing and tinkling down it and off into abys- 
mal space. Shuddering, I proposed that we 
turn back, but Pitamakan made light of the 
danger. 

SO 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I have been here before, and know what 
to do,” he said. ‘‘ I can make it so that we 
can safely cross it.” 

With a long, thin and narrow slab of rock 
he began gouging a trail out of the steep 
slide. The small and the large pieces of de- 
tritus which he dislodged rattled off the edge 
of the cliff, but strain my ears as I might, I 
could not hear them strike bottom. It was 
fully a hundred yards across this dangerous 
place, but Pitamakan soon made his way 
along it, and back to me. 

His path seemed more fit for coyotes than 
for horses, but he insisted that it was wide 
enough, and started leading his animal out 
on it. There was nothing for me to do but 
to follow with mine. When part way across, 
my horse’s hind feet broke down the little 
path, and he went with the sliding shale for 
several feet, all the time madly pawing to 
get back on the sound portion on which I 
stood. When I tried to help him by pulling 
on the lead-rope, the shale began sliding 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

under my feet. At that, Pitamakan, start- 
ing to run with his horse, shouted to me to 
do the same. 

For the rest of the way across, the strain 
on me and my animal was killing. We tore 
out all trace of the path in our efforts to 
keep from going down and off the slide. 
Wherever we put down our feet the shale 
started slipping, and the struggle to climb 
faster than it slipped exhausted our strength. 
When finally we did reach the firm rock 
where my companion stood waiting, we were 
utterly fatigued and dripping with sweat. 

Pitamakan’s face was ashy gray from the 
strain of watching my struggles. He drew 
me to him, and I could feel him trembling, 
while he said, in a choking voice, Oh, I 
thought you would never get here, and I 
just had to stand and look, unable to help 
you in any way ! I did n’t know. I should 
have made a wider, firmer path.” 

We sat down, and he told me about this 
pass: that after the winter snows came neither 

52 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

man nor horse could cross it, since the least 
movement would start the snow sliding. 
Three Blackfeet had once lost their lives 
there. In that manner, the avalanche which 
they loosened had swept them with it over 
the cliff, to the horror of their comrades 
who stood looking on. Upon our return, he 
said, he would make a safe path there, if it 
took him all day to finish the task. 

Soon we went on, turned the shoulder of 
the twin mountain, and felt that we had 
come into another world. Near by there 
were some tremendous peaks, some of them 
covered with great fields of ice, which I 
learned later were true glaciers. 

In other ways, too, this west side was dif- 
ferent from the east side of the Rockies. As 
far as we could see there were no plains, 
only one great, dark, evergreen forest that 
covered the slopes of the mountains and filled 
the endless valleys. Here, too, the air was 
different ; it was damp and heavy, and odor- 
ous of plants that grow in moist climates. 

53 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Working our way from ledge to ledge 
down the mountain, we came, toward sun- 
set, to what my friend called the Salt Springs. 
Farther west than this point he had never 
been. 

Early the next morning we pushed on, 
for we were anxious to reach the low val- 
leys where the beavers were to be found. 

Still following the trail, we struck, about 
mid-afternoon, a large stream bordered with 
alder, cottonwood, and willow, the bark of 
which is the beaver’s favorite food. There 
were some signs of the animals here, but as 
we expected to find them more plentiful 
farther down, we kept on until nearly sun- 
down, when we came to a fine grass meadow 
bordering the now larger river. Here was 
feed for the horses; in a pond at the upper 
end of the meadow there were five beaver 
lodges. 

‘‘Here is the place for us,” said Pitama- 
kan. “Let us hurry and picket the horses, 
and kill a deer; night is at hand.” 

54 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We Started to ride into the timber to un- 
saddle, when we heard a heavy trampling 
and crackling of sticks off to the left of the 
beaver-pond, and so sat still, rifles ready, ex- 
pecting to see a band of elk come into the 
open. 

A moment later thirty or forty Indians, 
men, women, and children, rode into the 
meadow. Perceiving us, the men whipped 
up their horses and came racing our way. 

^‘They are Kootenays ! It is useless to 
fire at them, or to run ! Pitamakan ex- 
claimed. I do not think they will harm 
us. Anyhow, look brave ; pretend that you 
are not afraid.*’ 

The men who surrounded us were tall 
and powerfully built. For what seemed to 
me an endless time, they sat silently staring, 
and noting every detail of our outfit. There 
was something ominous in their behavior; 
there came to me an almost uncontrollable 
impulse to make a move of some kind. It 
was their leader who broke the suspense. 
55 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

In-is-saht ! ’’ (Dismount !) he commanded, 
in Blackfoot, and we reluctantly obeyed. 

At that they all got off their horses, and 
then at word from the chief, each crowd- 
ing and pushing to be first, they stripped us 
of everything we had. One man got my 
rifle ; another the ammunition ; another 
snatched off my belt, with its knife, and the 
little pouch containing flint, steel, and punk, 
while the chief and another, who seemed to 
be a great warrior, seized the ropes of our 
horses. And there we were, stripped of 
everything that we possessed except the 
clothes we stood in. 

At that the chief broke out laughing, and 
so did the rest. Finally, commanding silence, 
he said to us, in very poor Blackfoot : — 

“As you are only boys, we will not kill 
you. Return to your chief, and tell him that 
we keep our beaver for ourselves, just as the 
plains people keep the buffalo for them- 
selves. Now go.” 

There was nothing to do but obey him, 

56 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

and we started. One man followed us a few 
steps, and struck Pitamakan several blows 
across the back with his whip. At that my 
friend broke out crying ; not because of the 
pain, but because of the terrible humiliation. 
To be struck by any one was the greatest of 
all insults; and my friend was powerless to 
resent it. 

Looking back, we saw the Kootenays 
move on through the meadow and disappear 
in the timber. Completely dazed by our 
great misfortune, we mechanically took our 
back trail, and seldom speaking, walked on 
and on. When night came, rain began to 
fall and the wind rose to a gale in the tree- 
tops. At that Pitamakan shook his head, and 
said, dejectedly, ‘*At this season rain down 
here means snow up on top. We must make 
strong medicine if we are ever to see our 
people again.’’ 

Hungry and without food or weapons for 
killing any game, wet and without shelter 
or any means of building a fire, we certainly 
57 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

were in a terrible plight. Worse still, if it 
was snowing on the summit, if winter had 
really set in, we must inevitably perish. I 
remembered hearing the old trappers say 
that winter often began in October in the 
Rocky Mountains ; and this day was well on 
in November ! “ Pitamakan ! We are not 
going to survive this!’’ I cried. 

For answer, he began singing the coyote 
song, the Blackfoot hunter’s prayer for good 
luck. It sounded weird and melancholy 
enough there in the darkening forest. 


CHAPTER III 


T here ! something tells me that 
will bring us good luck/’ said Pita- 
makan, when he had finished the 
medicine song. “ First of all, we must find 
shelter from the rain. Let us hurry and 
search for it up there along the foot of the 
cliffs/’ 

Leaving the trail, we pushed our way up 
the steep slope of the valley, through under- 
brush that dropped a shower of water on us 
at the slightest touch. There were only a 
few hundred yards between us and the foot 
of the big wall which shot high above the 
tops of the pines, but by the time we arrived 
there night had fairly come. At this point 
a huge pile of boulders formed the upper 
edge of the slope, and for a moment we stood 
undecided which way to turn. Toward 
home, of course ! ” Pitamakan exclaimed, 
and led the way along the edge of the bould- 
59 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ers, and finally to the cliff. There in front 
of US was a small, jagged aperture, and stoop- 
ing down, we tried to see what it was like 
inside. The darkness, however, was impen- 
etrable. 

I could hear my companion sniffing ; soon 
he asked, Do you smell anything?” 

But I could detect no odor other than that 
of the dank forest floor, and said so. 

‘^Well, I think that I smell bear!” he 
whispered, and we both leaped back, and 
then stealthily drew away from the place. 
But the rain was falling now in a heavy 
downpour ; the rising wind lashed it in our 
faces and made the forest writhe and creak 
and snap. Every few moments some old dead 
pine went down with a crash. It was a terri- 
ble night. 

‘‘We can’t go on 1 ” said Pitamakan. “ Per- 
haps I was mistaken. Bears do not lie down 
for their winter sleep until the snow has cov- 
ered up their food. W e must go back and take 
our chance of one being there in that hole.” 

6o 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We felt our way along the foot of the 
cliff until we came to the place. There we 
knelt down, hand in hand, sniffed once more, 
and exclaimed, ^^Kyaiyo!'* (Bear!) 

‘‘ But not strong ; only a little odor, as if 
one had been here last winter,’' Pitamakan 
added. “ The scent of one sticks in a place 
a long time.” 

Although I was shivering so much from 
the cold and wet that my teeth rattled, I 
managed to say, **Come on! We’ve got to 
go in there.” 

Crawling inch by inch, feeling of the 
ground ahead, and often stopping to sniff 
the air and listen, we made our cautious way 
inside, and presently came to a fluffy heap 
of dried grass, small twigs and leaves that 
rustled at our touch. 

*‘Ah, we survive, brother!” Pitamakan 
exclaimed, in a cheerful voice. ‘‘The bear 
has been here and made himself a bed for 
the winter; they always do that in the month 
of falling leaves. He is n’t here now, though, 

6i 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

and if he does come we will yell loud and 
scare him away/' 

Feeling round now to learn the size of the 
place, we found that it was small and low, and 
sloped to the height of a couple of feet at the 
back. Having finished the examination, we 
burrowed down into the grass and leaves, snug- 
gled close together, and covered ourselves as 
well as we could. Little by little we stopped 
shivering, and after a while felt comfortably 
warm, although wet. 

We fell to talking then of our misfortune, 
and planning various ways to get out of the 
bad fix we were in. Pitamakan was all for fol- 
lowing the Kootenays, stealing into their 
camp at night, and trying to recover not only 
our horses, but, if possible, our rifles also. I 
made the objection that even if we got a 
whole night’s start of the Kootenays, they, 
knowing the trails better than we did, would 
overtake us before we could ride to the sum- 
mit. We finally agreed to follow the trail of 
our enemies and have a look at their camp; 

62 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

we might find some way of getting back what 
they had taken. 

We really slept well. In the morning I 
awoke first, and looking out, saw nothing 
but thick, falling snow. I nudged my com- 
panion, and together we crept to the mouth 
of the cave. The snow was more than a foot 
deep in front of us, and falling so fast that 
only the nearest of the big pines below could 
be seen. The weather was not cold, certainly 
not much below freezing, but it caused our 
damp clothing to feel like ice against the 
skin. We crept back into our nest, shivering 
again. 

‘‘With this snow on the ground, it would 
be useless to try to take anything from the 
Kootenays,” I said. 

“True enough. They could follow our 
tracks and easily overtake us,’’ Pitamakan 
agreed. 

As he said no more for a long time, and 
would not even answer when I asked a ques- 
tion, I, too, became silent. But not for long ; 

63 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

so many fears and doubts were oppressing 
me that I had to speak. ‘‘We had better start 
on, then, and try to cross the summit.^’ 

Pitamakan shook his head slowly. “ Nei- 
ther we nor any one else will cross the sum- 
mit until summer comes again. This is win- 
ter. See, the snow is almost to our knees out 
there ; up on top it is over our heads.’’ 

“ Then we must die right here ! ” I ex- 
claimed. 

For answer, my partner began the coyote 
prayer song, and kept singing it over and 
over, except when he would break out into 
prayers to the sun, and to Old Man — the 
World-Maker — to give us help. There in 
the low little cave his song sounded muffled 
"and hollow enough. Had I not been watch- 
ing his face, I must have soon begged him 
to stop, it was so mournful and depress- 
ing. 

But his face kept brightening and bright- 
ening until he actually smiled ; and finally he 
turned to me and said, “ Do not worry, bro- 
64 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ther. Take courage. They have put new 
thoughts into me/' 

I asked what the thoughts were, and he 
replied by asking what we most needed. 

Food, of course," I said. I am weak 
from hunger." 

I thought you would say that ! " he ex- 
claimed. “ It is always food with white peo- 
ple. Get up in the morning and eat a big 
meal; at midday, another; at sunset, another. 
If even one of these is missed, they say they 
are starving. No, brother, we do not most 
need food. We could go without it half a 
moon and more, and the long fast would only 
do us good." 

I did not believe that. It was the common 
belief in those times that a person could live 
for only a few days without food. 

‘‘ No, it is not food ; it is fire that we most 
need," Pitamakan continued. “Were we to 
go out in that snow and get wet and then 
have no means of drying and warming our- 
selves, we should die." 

65 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

** Well, then, we must just lie here and 
wait for the snow to melt away,’’ I said, *‘for 
without flint and steel we can have no fire.” 

** Then we will lie here until next sum- 
mer. This country is different from ours of 
the plains. There the snow comes and goes 
many times during the winter ; here it only 
gets deeper and deeper, until the sun beats 
Cold-Maker, and comes north again.” 

I believed that to be true, for I remem- 
bered that my uncle had told me once that 
there were no chinook winds on the west side 
of the range. So I proposed what had been 
on my mind for some time : that we go to 
the camp of the Kootenays and beg them to 
give us shelter. 

*‘If they didn’t kill us, they would only 
beat us and drive us away. No, we cannot go 
to them,” said Pitamakan decidedly. ‘‘Now 
don’t look so sad ; we shall have fire.” 

He must have read my thoughts, for he 
added, “ I see that you don’t believe that 
I can make fire. Listen ! Before you white 
66 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

people came with your flints and steels, we 
had it. Old Man himself taught us how to 
make it. I have never seen it made in the old 
way because my people got the new way be- 
fore I was born. But I have often heard the 
older ones tell how it used to be made, and 
I believe that I can do it myself. It is easy. 
You take a small, dry, hard stick like an 
arrow-shaft, and twirl it between the palms 
of your hands, or with a bowstring, while the 
point rests in a hole in a piece of dry wood, 
with fine shreds of birch bark in it. The 
twirling stick heats these and sets them on 
fire.’’ 

Although I did not understand this ex- 
planation very well, I yet had some faith that 
Pitamakan could make the fire. He added 
that he would not try it until the weather 
cleared, and we could go round in the timber 
without getting wet except from the knees 
down. 

We lay there in the bear’s bed all that day. 
At sunset the snow ceased falling, but when 
67 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the clouds disappeared, the weather turned 
much colder, and it was well for us that the 
heat of our bodies had pretty thoroughly 
dried our clothing. As it was, we shivered all 
through the night, and were very miserable. 

Out in the darkness we heard some animal 
scraping through the snow, and feared that it 
might be the bear come to get into its bed. 
We had talked about that. If it was a black 
bear, we were safe enough, because they are 
the most cowardly of all animals, and even 
when wounded, will not attack a man. But 
what if it were a big grizzly ! We both knew 
tales enough of their ferocity. Only that 
summer a woman, picking berries, had been 
killed by one. 

So when we heard those soft footsteps we 
yelled ; stopped and listened, and yelled again, 
and again, until we were hoarse. Then we 
listened. All was still. Whatever had roused 
us was gone, but fear that a grizzly would 
come shuffling in kept us awake. 

Day came long before the sun rose above 
68 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the tremendous peaks that separated us from 
the plains. Much as we ached to crawl out 
of the cave and run and jump, we lay still 
until the sun had warmed the air a bit. The 
night before I had been ravenously hungry ; 
but now my hunger had largely passed, and 
Pitamakan said that I would soon forget all 
about food. 

‘‘ But we can’t live all winter without eat- 
ing!” I objected. 

‘‘ Of course not,” he replied. As soon as 
we have fire, we will go hunting and kill 
game. Then we will make us a comfortable 
lodge. Oh, we ’re going to be very com- 
fortable here before many days pass.” 

But the Kootenays ! ” I objected. ^^They 
will come again and drive us on, or kill 
us ! ” 

** Just now they are moving out of the 
mountains as fast as they can go, and will 
not return until summer comes again.” 

When we finally crawled out after our 
long rest, we saw that a bear really had been 
69 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

near us in the night. It had come walking 
along the slope, close to the foot of the cliff, 
until right in front of the cave, and then, 
startled, no doubt, by our yells, had gone 
leaping straight down into the timber. The 
short impressions of its claws in the snow 
proved it to have been a black bear. We 
were glad of that ; another night, fear, at 
least, would not prevent us from sleeping. 

Both of us were clothed for summer hunt- 
ing, I in buckskin trousers and flannel shirt, 
with no underclothing or socks. Pitamakan 
wore buffalo cow-leather leggings, breech- 
clout, and, fortunately, a shirt like mine 
that his aunt had given him. Neither of us 
had coat or waistcoat, but in place of them, 
capotes, hooded coats reaching to our knees, 
made of white blanket by the tailor at the 
fort. The snow looked very cold to step 
into with only thin buckskin moccasins on 
our feet, and I said so. 

We will remedy that,” said Pitamakan. 
He pulled off his capote, tore a couple of 
70 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

strips from the skirt of it, and then did the 
same with mine. With these we wrapped 
our feet, pulled our moccasins on over them, 
and felt that our toes were frost-proof. 

The snow was knee-deep. Stepping into 
it bravely, we made our way down the slope 
and into the timber. There it was not so 
deep, for a part of the fall had lodged in the 
thick branches of the pines. We came upon 
the tracks of deer and elk, and presently saw 
a fine white-tail buck staring curiously at us. 
The sight of his rounded, fat body brought 
the hungry feeling back to me, and I ex- 
pressed it with a plaintive ** Hai-yah !'* of 
longing. 

Pitamakan understood. ‘‘ Never mind,” 
he said, as the animal broke away, waving 
its broad flag as if in derision. “ Never mind. 
We will be eating fat ribs to-morrow, per- 
haps; surely on the next day.” 

That talk seemed so big to me that I said 
nothing, asked no question, as we went on 
down the hill. Before reaching the river we 

71 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

saw several more deer, a lone bull moose 
and a number of elk; the valley was full of 
game, driven from the high mountains by 
the storm. 

The river was not frozen, nor was there 
any snow on the low, wet, rocky bars to 
hinder our search for a knife. That was 
what we were to look for, just as both Pit- 
amakan’s and my own ancestors had searched, 
in prehistoric times, for sharp-edged tools in 
glacial drift and river wash. I was to look 
for flint and looks-like-ice rock,’’ as the 
Blackfeet call obsidian. As I had never seen 
any obsidian, except in the form of very 
small, shiny arrow-points, it was not strange 
that Pitamakan found a nodule of it on a bar 
that I had carefully gone over. It was some- 
what the shape of a football, rusty black, 
and coated with splotches of stuff that looked 
like whitewash. I could not believe that it 
was what we sought until he cracked it open 
and I saw the glittering fragments. 

Pitamakan had never seen any flint or 
72 


With the Indians in the Rockies - 

obsidian flaked and chipped into arrow- 
points and knives, but he had often heard 
the old people tell how it was done, and 
now he tried to profit by the information. 
With a small stone for a hammer, he gently 
tapped one of the fragments, and succeeded 
in splintering it into several thin, sharp- 
edged flakes. Carefully taking up all the 
fragments and putting them at the foot of a tree 
for future use, we went in search of material 
for the rest of the fire-making implements. 

We knew from the start that finding them 
would not be easy, for before the snow came, 
rain had thoroughly soaked the forest, and 
what we needed was bone-dry wood. We 
had hunted for an hour or more, when a 
half-dozen ruffed grouse flushed from under 
the top of a fallen tree and flew up into the 
branches of a big fir, where they sat and 
craned their necks. Back came my hungry 
feeling ; here was a chance to allay it. 
** Come on, let ’s get some stones and try to 
kill those birds ! I cried. 

73 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Away we went to the shore of the river, 
gathered a lot of stones in the skirts of our 
capotes, and hurried back to the tree. The 
birds were still there, and we began throw- 
ing at the one lowest down. We watched 
the course of each whizzing stone with in- 
tense eagerness, groaning, when 

it went wide of the mark. Unlike white 
boys, Indian youths are very inexpert at 
throwing stones, for the reason that they 
constantly carry a better weapon, the bow, 
and begin at a very early age to hunt small 
game with it. I could cast the stones much 
more accurately than Pitamakan, and soon 
he handed what he had left to me. 

Although I made some near shots, and 
sent the stones clattering against the branches 
and zipping through the twigs, the bird 
never once moved, except to flutter a wing 
when a missile actually grazed it or struck 
the limb close to its feet. With the last stone 
of the lot I hit a grouse, and as it started 
fluttering down we made a rush for the foot 
74 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

of the tree, whooping wildly over our suc- 
cess, and frightening the rest of the covey so 
that they flew away. 

The wounded bird lodged for a moment 
in a lower branch, toppled out of that into 
another, fluttered from that down into clear 
space. Pitamakan sprang to catch it, and 
grasped only the air; for the bird righted 
itself, sailed away and alighted in the snow, 
fifty yards distant. We ran after it as fast as 
we could. It was hurt. We could see that it 
had difficulty in holding up its head, and 
that its mouth was open. We felt certain of 
our meat. But no ! Up it got when we were 
about to make our pounce, and half fluttered 
and half sailed another fifty yards or so. 
Again and again it rose, we hot after it, and 
finally it crossed the river. But that did not 
daunt us. The stream was wide there, run- 
ning in a still sweep over a long bar ; and 
we crossed, and in our hurry, splashed our- 
selves until we were wet above the waist. 
Then, after all, the grouse rose long before 
75 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

we came anywhere near it, and this time 
flew on and on until lost to sight ! 

Our disappointment was too keen to be 
put into words. Dripping wet and as miser- 
erable a pair of boys as ever were, we stood 
there in the cold snow and looked sadly at 
each other. “ Oh, well, come on,” said Pit- 
amakan. ‘‘What is done is done. We will 
now get the wood we want and make a fire 
to dry ourselves.” 

He led off, walked to a half-fallen fir, and 
from the under side broke off just what we 
were looking for — a hard, dry spike about 
twice the diameter of a lead-pencil and a 
foot or more in length. That did seem to 
be good luck, and our spirits rose. We went 
out to the shore of the river, where I was 
set to rounding off the base of the spike and 
sharpening the point, first by rubbing it on 
a coarse-grained rock, and then smoothing 
it with a flake of obsidian. I ruined the 
edge of the first piece by handling it too 
vigorously ; the brittle stone had to be forced 
76 






> .1 - 

^ “ li ' 


» g . 

• »- • A .* * . 


♦ *. 


r 

> \ 
4 . 




. -I 


1 . 


> 


• \ 


- » 


f 


( • 






rf 







f 


/. 


1 

I 

\ . 

% 

* 

j 


A -* . ’ * • S . 


'Jfi.-. 

- •*> ' 


*s 

I 


' .‘ 1.7 

'- •/ 


I 


1 


.K 


i 





« 


••• 



S' 


» t 


; 


« « 


■-• • 


V , ^ 


p"- 


. 4 





I, 


I 

vr 




( I 


v: /» 


V . 






cr’X -• 

!>/... ■* » 






sir^ 


^'4 • r, V 

SW . F 1 4 • 


r »* •. 


I « ' t 

I • 


• • !lZ A 





• I >. 


ft * •* 



t 

_ V 


!; r'i 


w'% * 


't 


(s 


t ~* 


-i ' /' v . r - 
^ " 

’■■ ‘ ■' V " 


:1 


%';,. V vf.,-. 





♦ : * t 

*■ ‘I 

/":-0 

• v;'* • 


i i 




«l 


• A 

I * 


■ S 


'» ■ 


>;r 

- i.V 




> * 






r / f \it 

i t 


• • • 

M V 


-^■ 


•* 


t 

« i 


Y-^ 


1 


g ». '. 

.4 f « ^ 


.» 

1 


I I 




^ ,v 




J\ 


V > 


* 




V , 

• t 






It 

‘f 


-J . 


4 

f 4 




'/' ' 


H- 






ri 


^ f 




\ y 


• I 


V 




» 


♦ .' 




. f'l 


' . 


r.oi'.ft k • ' c ,' ■ . ■ *.‘ '». f-fi' '/.y...*.’^jV'' 




'.'I 


■ • *<-t * 



t 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

slowly and diagonally along the place to be 
cut. 

Pitamakan, meanwhile, was hunting a 
suitable piece of wood for the drill to work 
in. Hard wood, he had heard the old people 
say, was necessary for this, and here the only 
growth of the kind was birch. 

By the time I got the drill shaped, 'he 
had found none that was dry, and I was glad 
to help in the search, for I was nearly frozen 
from standing still so long in my wet clothes. 
Up and down the river we went, and back 
into the forest, examining every birch that 
appeared to be dead. Every one that we 
found was rotten, or only half dry. It was 
by the merest chance that we found the 
very thing : a beaver-cutting of birch, cast 
by the spring freshet under a projecting 
ledge of rock, where it was protected from 
the rains. It was almost a foot in diameter 
and several feet long. We rubbed a coarse 
stone against the centre of it until the place 
was flat and a couple of inches wide, and in 
77 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

that Started a small hole with the obsidian. 
This was slow work, for the glasslike sub- 
stance constantly broke under the pressure 
needed to make it cut into the wood. It was 
late in the day when the gouging was fin- 
ished, and we prepared to put our tools to 
the test. 

This was an occasion for prayer. Pita- 
makan so earnestly entreated his gods to pity 
us, to make our work successful, and thus 
save our lives, that, unsympathetic as I was 
with his beliefs, I could not help being 
moved. I wanted to be stoical ; to keep up 
a brave appearance to the last ; but this pa- 
thetic prayer to heathen gods, coming as it 
did when I was weak from hunger and ex- 
posure, was too much. To this day I remem- 
ber the exact words of it, too long^to repeat 
here. I can translate only the closing sen- 
tence : “ Also, have pity on us because of 
our dear people on the other side of the 
range, who are even now weeping in their 
lodges because we do not return to them.’* 
78 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

When he had finished the prayer, Pita- 
makan took the drill in the palms of his 
hands and set the point of it in the small, 
rough hole in the birch. We had already 
gathered some dry birch bark, and I held 
some of it, shredded into a fluffy mass, close 
round the drill and the pole. 

Now,fire come ! Pitamakan exclaimed, 
and began to twirl the drill between his 
hands, at the same time pressing it firmly 
down in the hole. 

But no smoke came. What was the rea- 
son ? He stopped and raised the drill; we 
felt of it and the hole; both were very hot, 
and I suggested that we take turns drilling, 
changing about in the least possible time. 
We tried it, and oh, how anxiously we 
watched for success, drilling and drilling for 
our very lives, drilling turn about until our 
muscles were so strained that we could not give 
the stick another twirl ! Then we dropped 
back and stared at each other. Our experi- 
ment had failed. Night was coming on. 
79 , 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Our wet clothing was beginning to freeze, 
and there was the river between us and the 
shelter of our cave. 

The outlook seemed hopeless, and I said 
so. Pitamakan said nothing ; his eyes had a 
strange, vacant expression. We can do no- 
thing,” I repeated. ** Right here we have to 
die.” 

Still he did not answer, or even look at 
me, and I said to myself, He has gone 
mad ! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


I F they will not do/’ Pitamakan mut- 
tered, rising stiffly, while the ice on his 
leggings crackled, ‘^why, I ’ll cut off a 
braid of my hair.” 

I was now sure that our troubles had 
weakened his mind ; no Indian in his right 
senses would think of cutting off his hair. 

** Pitamakan! What is the trouble with 
you ? ” I asked, looking up anxiously at him. 

*^Why, nothing is the matter,” he re- 
plied. ** Nothing is the matter. We must 
now try to work the drill with a bow. If 
our moccasin strings are too rotten to bear 
the strain, I ’ll have to make a bow cord by 
cutting off some of my hair and braiding 
it.” 

It was a great relief to know that he was 
sane enough, but I had little faith in this 
new plan, and followed listlessly as he went 
here and there, testing the branches of wil- 

8i 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

low and birch. Finally, he got from the 
river shore one stone that was large and 
smooth, and another that had a sharp edge. 
Then, scraping the snow away from the base 
of a birch shoot a couple of inches in dia- 
meter, he laid the smooth stone at its base. 
Next he bade me bend the shoot close down 
on the smooth stone, while with the sharp 
edge of the other he hit the strained wood 
fibre a few blows. In this way he easily sev- 
ered the stem. Cutting off the top of the 
sapling in the same manner, he had a bow 
about three feet in length ; a rough, clumsy 
piece of wood, it is true, but resilient. 

As my moccasin strings were buckskin 
and much stronger than Pitamakan’s cow- 
leather ones, we used one of mine for the 
bowstring. We now carried the base stick 
and drill back from the creek into the thick 
timber, gathered a large bunch of birch bark 
and a pile of fine and coarse twigs, and made 
ready for this last attempt to save ourselves. 

We hesitated to begin ; uncertainty as to 
82 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the result was better than sure knowledge 
of failure, but while we waited we began to 
freeze. It was a solemn and anxious mo- 
ment when Pitamakan set the point of the 
drill in the hole, made one turn of the bow- 
string round its centre, and held it in place 
by pressing down with the palm of his left 
hand on the tip. With his right hand he 
grasped the bow, and waiting until I had the 
shredded bark in place round the hole, he 
once more started the coyote prayer song 
and began sawing the bow forth and back, 
precisely the motion of a cross-cut saw bit- 
ing into a standing tree. 

The wrap of the string caused the drill to 
twirl with amazing rapidity, and at the third 
or fourth saw he gave a howl of pain and 
dropped the outfit. I had no need to ask 
why. The drill tip had burned his hand; 
when he held it out a blister was already 
puffing up. 

We changed places, and I gathered the 
skirt of my capote in a bunch to protect my 

83 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

hand. I began to work the bow, faster and 
faster, until the drill moaned intermittently, 
like a miniature buzz-saw. In a moment or 
two I thought that I saw a very faint streak 
of smoke stealing up between my compan- 
ion’s fingers. 

He was singing again, and did not hear 
my exclamation as I made sure that my eyes 
had not deceived me. Smoke actually was 
rising. I sawed harder and harder ; more and 
more smoke arose, but there was no flame. 

*‘Why not?” I cried. Oh, why don’t 
you burn ? ” 

Pitamakan’s eyes were glaring anxiously, 
greedily at the blue curling vapor. I contin- 
ued to saw with all possible rapidity, but still 
there was no flame ; instead, the smoke be- 
gan to diminish in volume. A chill ran 
through me as I saw it fail. 

I was on the point of giving up, of drop- 
ping the bow and saying that this was the 
end of our trail, when the cause of the failure 
was made plain to me. Pitamakan was press- 
84 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ing the shredded bark too tight round the 
drill and into the hole ; there could be no 
fire where there was no air. “Raise your 
fingers ! I shouted. “ Loosen up the bark ! ” 

I had to repeat what I said before he un- 
derstood and did as he was told. Instantly 
the bark burst into flame. 

“ Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! ” I cried, as I hastily 
snatched out the drill. 

“ I-puh-kwt-is ! I-puh-kwt-is ! ” (It burns ! 
It burns !) Pitamakan shouted. 

He held a big wad of bark to the tiny 
flame, and when it ignited, carried the blaz- 
ing, sputtering mass to the pile of fuel that 
we had gathered and thrust it under the fine 
twigs. These began to crackle and snap, and 
we soon had a roaring fire. Pitamakan raised 
his hands to the sky and reverently gave 
thanks to his gods ; I silently thanked my 
own for the mercy extended to us. From 
death, at least by freezing, we were saved ! 

The sun was setting. In the gathering 
dusk we collected a huge pile of dead wood, 
85 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

every piece in the vicinity that we had 
strength to lift and carry, some of them 
fallen saplings twenty and thirty feet long. 
I was for putting a pile of them on the fire 
and having a big blaze. I did throw on 
three or four large chunks, but Pitamakan 
promptly lifted them off. 

“That is the way of white people^jf^ he 
said. “ They waste wood and stand, half 
freezing, away back from the big blaze. 
Now we will have this in the way we Lone 
People do it, and so will we get dry and 
warm.’’ 

While I broke off boughs of feathery bal- 
sam fir and brought in huge armfuls of them, 
he set up the frame of a small shelter close 
to the fire. First, he placed a triangle of 
heavy sticks, so that the stubs of branches at 
their tops interlocked, and then he laid up 
numerous sticks side by side, and all slanting 
together at the top, so as to fill two sides of 
the triangle. These we shingled with the fir 
boughs, layer after layer, to a thickness of 
86 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

several feet. With the boughs, also, we made 
a soft bed within. 

We now had a fairly comfortable shelter. 
In shape it was roughly like the half of a 
hollow cone, and the open part faced the fire. 
Creeping into it, we sat on the bed, close 
to the little blaze. Some cold air filtered 
through the bough thatching and chilled our 
backs. Pitamakan pulled off his capote and 
told me to do the same. Spreading them out, 
he fastened them to the sticks of the slant- 
ing roof and shut off the draft. The heat 
radiating from the fire struck them, and 
reflecting, warmed our backs. The ice 
dropped from our clothes and they began to 
steam ; we were actually comfortable. 

But now that the anxieties and excite- 
ment of the day were over, and I had time 
to think about other things than fire, back 
came my hunger with greater insistence than 
ever. I could not believe it possible for us to 
go without eating as long as Pitamakan said 
his people were able to fast. Worse still, I 

87 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

saw no possible way for us to get food. When 
I said as much to Pitamakan, he laughed. 

“Take courage; don’t be an afraid per- 
son,” he said. “ Say to yourself, * I am not 
hungry,’ and keep saying it, and soon it will 
be the truth to you. But we will not fast 
very long. Why, if it were necessary, I 
would get meat for us this very night.” 

I stared at him. The expression of his 
eyes was sane enough. I fancied that there 
was even a twinkle of amusement in them. 
If he was making a joke, although a sorry 
one, I could stand it ; but if he really meant 
what he said, then there could be no doubt 
but that his mind wandered. 

“ Lie down and sleep,” I said. “ You have 
worked harder than I, and sleep will do you 
good. I will keep the fire going.” 

At that he laughed, a clear, low laugh of 
amusement that was good to hear. “ Oh, I 
meant what I said. I am not crazy. Now 
think hard. Is there any possible way for us 
to get food this night?” 

88 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Of course there is n’t,” I replied, after a 
moment’s reflection. ‘‘Don’t joke about the 
bad fix we are in ; that may make it all the 
worse for us.” 

He looked at me pityingly. “ Ah, you are 
no different from the rest of the whites. 
True, they are far wiser than we Lone 
People. But take away from them the things 
their powerful medicine has taught them 
how to make, guns and powder and ball, 
fire steels and sticks, knives and clothes and 
blankets of hair, take from them these things 
and they perish. Yes, they die where we 
should live, and live comfortably.” 

I felt that there was much truth in what 
he said. I doubted if any of the company’s 
men, even the most experienced of them, 
would have been able to make a fire had 
they been stripped of everything that they 
possessed. But his other statement, that if 
necessary he could get food for us at once. 

“ Where could you find something for us 
to eat now?” I asked. 

89 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Out there anywhere/* he replied, with 
a wave of the hand. “Have n*t you noticed 
the trails of the rabbits, hard-packed little 
paths in the snow, where they travel round 
through the brush? Yes, of course you have. 
Well, after the middle of the night, when 
the moon rises and gives some light, I could 
go out there and set some snares in those 
paths, using our moccasin strings for loops, 
and in a short time we would have a rabbit ; 
maybe two or three of them.’* 

How easy a thing seems, once you know 
how to do it ! I realized instantly that the 
plan was perfectly feasible, and wondered at 
my own dullness in not having thought 
of it. I had been sitting up stiffly enough 
before the fire, anxiety over our situation keep- 
ing my nerves all a-quiver. Now a pleasant 
sense of security came to me. I felt only tired 
and sleepy, and dropped back on the boughs. 

“ Pitamakan, you are very wise,** I said, 
and in a moment was sound asleep. If he 
answered I never heard him. 


90 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Every time the fire died down the cold 
awoke one or both of us to put on fresh fuel ; 
and then we slept again, and under the cir- 
cumstances, passed a very restful night. 

Soon after daylight snow began to fall 
again, not so heavily as in the previous storm, 
but with a steadiness that promised a long 
period of bad weather. We did not mind 
going out into it, now that we could come 
back to a fire at any time and dry ourselves. 

Before setting forth, however, we spent 
some time in making two rude willow 
arrows. We mashed off the proper lengths 
with our*‘ anvil ” and cutting-stone, smoothed 
the ends by burning them, and then scraped 
the shafts and notched them with our ob- 
sidian knives. I proposed that we sharpen 
the points, but Pitamakan said no ; that blunt 
ones were better for bird shooting, because 
they smashed the wing bones. Pitamakan 
had worked somewhat on the bow during 
the evening, scraping it thinner and drying 
it before the fire, so that now it had more 

91 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

spring; enough to get us meat, he thought. 
The great difficulty would be to shoot the 
unfeathered, clumsy arrows true to the mark. 

Burying some coals deep in the ashes to 
make sure that they would be alive upon our 
return, we started out. Close to qailip, Pita- 
makan set two rabbit snares, using a part of 
our moccasin strings for the purpose. His 
manner of doing this was simple. He bent a 
small, springy sapling over the rabbit path, 
and stuck the tip of it under a low branch of 
another tree. Next he tied the buckskin 
string to the sapling, so that the noose end of 
it hung cross-wise in the rabbit path, a 
couple of inches above the surface of it. 
Then he stuck several feathery balsam tips on 
each side of the path, to hide the sides of 
the noose and prevent its being blown out 
of place by the wind. When a passing rab- 
bit felt the loop tighten on its neck, its strug- 
gles would release the tip of the spring-pole 
from under the bough, and it would be jerked 
up in the air and strangled. 

92 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

From camp, we went down the valley, 
looking for grouse in all the thickest clumps 
of young pines. Several rabbits jumped up 
ahead of us, snow-white, big-footed and 
black-eyed. Pitamakan let fly an arrow at 
one of them, but it fell short of the mark. 

There were game trails everywhere. The 
falling snow was fast filling them, so that we 
could not distinguish new tracks from old; 
but after traveling a half-mile or so, we be- 
gan to see the animals themselves, elk and 
deer, singly, and in little bands. As we ap- 
proached a tangle of red willows, a bull, a 
cow, and a calf moose rose from the beds 
they had made in them. The cow and calf 
trotted away, but the bull, his hair all brist- 
ling forward, walked a few steps toward us, 
shaking his big, broad-horned head. The old 
trappers’ tales of their ferocity at this time of 
year came to my mind, and I began to look 
for a tree to climb ; there was none near by. 
All had such a large circumference that I 
could not reach halfway round them. 

93 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Let 's run ! ’’ I whispered. 

Stand still ! Pitamakan answered. If 
you run, he will come after us.'’ 

The bull was not more than fifty yards 
from us. In the dim light of tip forest his 
eyes, wicked little pig-like eyes, glowed with 
a greenish fire. The very shape of him was 
terrifying, more like a creature of bad dreams 
than an actual inhabitant of the earth. His 
long head had a thick, drooping upper lip ; 
a tassel of black hair swung from his lower 
jaw; at the withers he stood all of six feet 
high, and sloped back to insignificant hind 
quarters ; his long hair was rusty gray, shad- 
ing into black. All this I took in at a glance. 
The bull again shook his head at us and 
advanced another step or two. “ If he starts 
again, run for a tree," Pitamakan said. 

That was a trying moment. We were cer- 
tainly much afraid of him, and so would the 
best of the company men have been had they 
stood there weaponless in knee-deep snow. 
Once more he tossed his enormous horns ; 

94 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

but just as he started to advance, a stick 
snapped in the direction in which the cow 
and calf had gone. At that he half turned 
and looked back, then trotted away in their 
trail. The instant he disappeared we started 
the other way, and never stopped until we 
came to our shelter. 

It was well for us that we did return just 
then. The falling snow was wetting the ash- 
heap, and the water would soon have soaked 
through to the buried coals. We dug them 
up and started another fire, and sat before it 
for some time before venturing out again. 
This experience taught us, when leaving 
camp thereafter, to cover the coal-heap with 
a roof of wood or bark. 

‘‘ Well, come on! Let ’s go up the valley 
this time, and see what will happen to us 
there,” said Pitamakan, when we had rested. 

Not three hundred yards above camp we 
came to a fresh bear trail, so fresh that only 
a very thin coating of snow had fallen since 
the passing of the animal. It led us to the 
95 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

river, when we saw that it continued on the 
Other side up to the timber, straight toward 
the cave that had sheltered us. The tracks, 
plainly outlined in the sand at the edge of 
the water, were those of a black bear. “ That 
is he, the one that gathered the leaves and 
stuff we slept in, and he *s going there now ! 
Pitamakan exclaimed. 

‘‘If we only had his carcass, how much 
more comfortable we could be ! I said. 
“The hide would be warm and soft to lie 
on, and the fat meat would last us a long 
time.” 

“ If he goes into the cave to stay, we ’ll 
get him,” said Pitamakan. “If we can’t 
make bows and arrows to kill him, we will 
take strong, heavy clubs and pound him on 
the head.” 

We went up the valley. Trailing along 
behind my companion, I thought over his 
proposal to club the bear to death. A month, 
even a few days back, such a plan would have 
seemed foolish; but I was fast learning that 
96 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

necessity, starvation, will cause a man to take 
chances against the greatest odds. And the 
more I thought about it, the more I felt like 
facing that bear. 

I was about to propose that we go after it 
at once, when, with a whirr of wings that 
startled us, a large covey of blue grouse burst 
from a thicket close by, and alighted here 
and there in the pines and firs. We moved 
on a few steps, and stopped within short bow- 
shot of one. It did not seem to be alarmed at 
our approach, and Pitamakan took his time 
to fit one of the clumsy arrows and fire it. 

Zip! The shaft passed a foot from its 
body, struck a limb above and dropped down 
into the snow. But the grouse never moved. 
Anxiously I watched the fitting and aiming 
of the other arrow. 

Zip ! I could not help letting out a loud 
yell when it hit fair and the bird came flut- 
tering and tumbling down. I ran forward 
and fell on it the instant it struck the snow, 
and grasped its plump body with tense hands. 

97 


With the Indieins in the Rockies 

‘‘Meat! See! We have meat!’’ I cried, 
holding up the fine cock. 

“ Be still ! You have already scared all the 
other birds out of this tree ! ” said Pitamakan. 

It was true. There |iad been three more 
in that fir, and now, because of my shouts, 
they were gone. Pitamakan looked at me re- 
proachfully as he started to pick up the fallen 
arrows. Right, there I learned a lesson in 
self-restraint that I never forgot. 

We knew that there were more grouse in 
near-by trees, but they sat so still and were 
so much the color of their surroundings that 
we were some time in discovering any of 
them. They generally chose a big limb to 
light on, close to the bole of the tree. Fin- 
ally our hungry eyes spied three in the next 
tree, and Pitamakan began shooting at the 
lower one, while I recovered the arrows for 
him. 

Luck was against us. It was nothing, but 
miss, miss, miss, and as one by one the 
arrows grazed the birds, they hurtled away 
98 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

through the forest and out of sight. We were 
more fortunate a little farther on, for we got 
two birds from a small fir. Then we hurried 
to camp with our prizes. 

I was for roasting the three of them at 
once, and eating a big feast ; but Pitamakan 
declared that he would not have any such 
doings. We ’ll eat one now,” he said,‘‘ one in 
the evening, and the other in the morning.” 

We were so hungry that we could not 
wait to cook the first bird thoroughly. Di- 
viding it, we half roasted the portions over 
the coals, and ate the partly raw flesh. Al- 
though far from enough, that was the best 
meal I ever had. And it was not so small, 
either; the blue grouse is a large and heavy 
bird, next to the sage-hen the largest of our 
grouse. After eating, we went out and 
rustled” a good pile of fuel. As night 
came on, we sat down before the blaze in a 
cheerful mood, and straightway began to 
make plans for the future, which now seemed 
less dark than at the beginning of the day. 

99 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

“With a better bow and better arrows, it 
is certain that we can kill enough grouse to 
keep us alive,” I said. 

Not unless we have snowshoes to travel 
on,” Pitamakan otgected. “ In a few days 
the snow will be so deep that we can no 
longer wade in it.” 

“We can make them of wood,” I sug- 
gested, remembering the tale of a company 
man. 

“ But we could n’t travel about barefooted. 
Our moccasins will last only a day or two 
longer. One of mine, you see, is already rip- 
ping along the sole. Brother, if we are ever 
to see green grass and our people again, these 
things must we have besides food — thread 
and needles, skins for moccasins, clothing 
and bedding, and a warm lodge. The weather 
is going to be terribly cold before long.” 

At that my heart went away down. I had 
thought only of food, forgetting that other 
things were just as necessary. The list of 
them staggered me — thread and needles. 


lOO 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

moccasins, and all the rest ! Well, then, we 
must die,” I exclaimed, ** for we can never 
get all those things ! ” 

‘‘We can and we will,” said Pitamakan, 
cheerfully, “ and the beginning of it all will 
be a better bow and some real arrows, arrows 
with ice-rock or flint points. We will try to 
make some to-morrow. Hah! Listen I ” 

I barely heard the plaintive squall, but he 
recognized it. “ Come on, it ’s a rabbit in one 
of the snares ! ” he cried, and out we ran into 
the brush. 

He was right. A rabbit, still kicking and 
struggling for breath, was hanging in the 
farther snare. Resetting the trap, we ran, 
happy and laughing, back to the fire with the 
prize. 

After all, we ate two grouse, instead of one, 
that evening, burying them under the fire, 
and this time letting them roast long enough 
so that the meat parted easily from the bones. 


CHAPTER V 


M 


Y grandfather told me that this is 
one way that it was done/* said 
Pitamakan, as taking a flake of 


obsidian in the palm of his left hand, he 
tapped it with an angular stone held in his 
right hand. The other way was to heat the 
ice-rock in the fire, and then with a grass 
stem place a very small drop of water on the 
part to be chipped off.** 

We had been out after flints, and finding 
none, had brought back the pieces of obsid- 
ian that we had placed at the foot of the 
tree. Earlier in the morning, on visiting the 
snares, we had found a rabbit in each. They 
hung now in a tree near by, and it was good 
to see them there; the rabbit remaining from 
our first catch had been broiled for our 
breakfast. 

Following my partner’s example, I, too, 
tried to work a piece of the obsidian into 


102 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

an arrow-point. The result was that we 
spoiled much of the none too plentiful ma- 
terial. It would not chip where we wanted 
it to, and if we hit it too hard a blow it 
splintered. 

Deciding now to try the fire-and-water 
method, we made for the purpose a pair of 
pincers of a green willow fork, and melted 
a handful of snow in a saucer-shaped frag- 
ment of rock. I was to do the heating of 
the obsidian and Pitamakan was to do the 
flaking. He chose a piece about an inch and 
a half long, a quarter of an inch thick, and 
nearly triangular in shape. One edge was as 
sharp as a razor; the other two were almost 
square-faced. 

According to his directions, I took the 
fragment in the pincers by the sharp edge, 
so as to leave the rest free to be worked 
upon. Gradually exposing it to the heat, I 
held it for a moment over some coals freshly 
raked from the fire, and then held it before 
him, while with the end of a pine needle he 

103 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

laid a tiny drop of water near the lower 
corner, about a quarter of an inch back from 
the squared edge. There was a faint hiss of 
steam, but n& apparent change in the sur- 
face of the rock. We tried it again, drop- 
ping the water in the same place. Pip! A 
small scale half the size of the little finger 
nail snapped off and left a little trough in 
the square edge. We both gave cries of de- 
light; it seemed that we had hit on the 
right way to do the work. 

A little more experimenting showed that 
the piece should be held slanting downward 
in the direction in which the flaking was to 
be done, for the cold water caused the rock 
to scale in the direction in which the drop 
ran. In the course of two hours the rough 
piece of obsidian was chipped down to a 
small arrow-point — one that Pitamakan’s 
grandfather would have scorned, no doubt, 
but a real treasure to us. 

We worked all that day making the 
points ; when evening came we had five that 
104 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

were really serviceable. At sundown, the 
weather having cleared, we went to look at 
the rabbit-snares. As neither had been sprung, 
we moved them to a fresh place. This last 
storm had added a good deal to the depth of 
the snow ; it was so much now above our 
knees that walking in it was hard work. 

We had now before us a task almost as 
difficult as making the points ; that is, to find 
suitable material for our bows and arrows. 
We found none that evening, but the next 
morning, after visiting the snares and taking 
one rabbit, we stumbled on a clump of serv- 
ice-berry treelets, next to ash the favorite 
bow-wood of the Blackfeet. 

Back to the camp we went, got our “ an- 
vil and hacking-stones, and cut two straight, 
limbless stems, between two and three inches 
in diameter. Next we had a long hunt 
through the willows for straight arrow-shafts, 
found them, and got some coarse pieces of 
sandstone from the river to use as files. 

Two days more were needed for making 

105 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the bows and the arrow-shafts. The bows 
were worked down to the right size and 
shape only by the hardest kind of sandstone- 
rubbing, and by scraping and cutting with 
obsidian knives. But we did not dare to dry 
them quickly in the fire for fear of making 
the wood brittle, and they had not the 
strength of a really good weapon. 

We made a good job of the arrows, slit- 
ting the tips, inserting the points, and fast- 
ening them in place with rabbit-sinew wrap- 
pings. For the shafts, the grouse wings 
provided feathering, which was also fastened 
in place with the sinew. Fortunately for us, 
the rabbit-snares kept us well supplied with 
meat, although we were growing tired of 
the diet. 

Only one thing caused us anxiety now — 
the cords for our bows. We had to use for 
the purpose our moccasin strings, which were 
not only large and uneven, but weak. Pita- 
makan spoke of cutting off a braid of his 
hair for a cord, but on the morning after 
io6 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the weapons were finished, he said that in 
the night his dream had warned him not to 
do this. That settled it. 

On this morning we went early to the 
snares and found a rabbit hanging in each. 
Taking the nooses along with the game to 
camp, we slowly dried them before the fire, 
for they must now serve as bowstrings. 
After they were dry we tested one of them, 
and it broke. We knotted it together and 
twisted it with the other to make a cord 
for Pitamakan’s bow. That left me without 
one, and unable to string my bow until 
some large animal was killed that would 
furnish sinew for the purpose. I was by no 
means sure that the twisted and doubled cord 
was strong enough. 

“You ’d better try it before we start out,” 
I suggested. 

“No, we mustn’t strain it any more than 
we can help,” Pitamakan replied ; and with 
that he led off down the valley. 

Although the sun shone brightly, this 
107 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

was the coldest day that we had yet had. 
Had we not worn rabbit-skins, with fur side 
in, for socks, we could not have gone far from 
the fife. The trees were popping with frost, 
a sign that the temperature was close to zero. 

Soon after leaving camp we struck a per- 
fect network of game tracks, some of which 
afforded good walking — when they went 
our way. For there was no main trail par- 
allel to the river, such as the buffalo and 
other game always made along the streams 
on the east side of the Rockies. On the 
west side of course there were no buffalo, 
and probably never had been any ; and to 
judge from the signs, the other animals wan- 
dered aimlessly in every direction. 

We went ahead slowly and noiselessly, for 
we hoped to see some of the game lying 
down, and to get a close shot before we 
were discovered. Presently a covey of ruffed 
grouse, flying up out of the snow into the 
pines, afforded easy shots ; but we dared not 
risk our arrows for fear of shattering the 
io8 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

points against the solid wood. We deter- 
mined thereafter always to carry a couple 
of blunt ones for bird shooting. 

Soon after passing the grouse, I caught a 
glimpse of some black thing that bobbed 
through the snow into a balsam thicket. We 
went over there and came to the trail of a 
fisher, the largest member of the weasel 
family. As I had often seen the large, glossy 
black pelts of these animals brought into 
the fort by Indians and company trappers, I 
was anxious to get a close view of one alive. 
I looked for it farther along in the snow ; 
but Pitamakan, who was gazing up into the 
trees, all at once grasped my arm and pointed 
at a small red-furred creature that, running 
to the end of a long bough, leaped into the 
next tree. 

“ Huh ! Only a squirrel ! ” I said. But I 
had barely spoken when, hot after it, jumped 
the fisher, the most beautiful, agile animal 
that I had ever seen. It was considerably 
larger than a house cat. 

109 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We ran, or rather waddled, as fast as we 
CQuId to the foot of the fir, barely in time 
to see the fisher spring into the next tree, 
still in pursuit of the squirrel. The latter, 
making a circle in the branches, leaped back 
into the tree over our heads. The fisher was 
gaining on it, and was only a few feet be- 
hind its prey when, seeing us, it instantly 
whipped round and went out of that tree 
into the one beyond, and from that to an- 
other, and another, until it was finally lost 
to sight. 

‘‘Oh, if we could only have got it!’’ I 
cried. 

“ Never mind, there are plenty of them 
here, and we ’ll get some before the winter 
is over,” said my companion. 

Although I had my doubts about that, I 
made no remark. Pitamakan was promising 
lot of things that seemed impossible, — needles 
and thread, for instance. “ Let ’s go on,” I 
said. “It is too cold for us to stand still.” 

We came now to the red willow thicket 


I lO 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

where the bull moose had frightened us. 
There a barely perceptible trough in the 
new-fallen snow marked where he and his 
family had wandered round and retreated, 
quartering down the valley. 

*‘They are not far away, but I think we 
had better not hunt them until we have two 
bows,’’ Pitamakan remarked. 

Just below the red willows we saw our 
first deer, a large, white-tail doe, walking to- 
ward the river, and stopping here and there 
to snip off tender tips of willow and birch. 
We stood motionless while she passed through 
the open timber and into a fir thicket. 

‘‘She is going to lie down in there. Come 
on,” said Pitamakan. 

He started toward the river and I followed, 
although I wondered why he did n’t go 
straight to the deer trail. Finally I asked 
him the reason, and right there I got a very 
important lesson in still-hunting. 

“ All the animals of the forest lie down 
facing their back trail,” he explained. “Some- 
1 1 1 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

times they do more than that ; they make a 
circle, and coming round, lie down where 
they can watch their trail. If an enemy comes 
along on it, they lie close to the ground, 
ears flattened back, until he passes on ; then 
they get up slowly and sneak quietly out of 
hearing, and then run far and fast. Remem- 
ber this: never follow a trail more than just 
enough to keep the direction the animal is 
traveling. Keep looking ahead, and when 
you see a likely place for the animal to be 
lying, a rise of ground, a side hill, or a 
thicket, make a circle, and approach it from 
the further side. If the animal has n*t stopped, 
you will come to its trail ; but if you find 
no trail, go ahead slowly, a step at a time.” 

There was sound sense in what he told 
me, and I said so ; but feeling that we were 
losing time, I added, “ Let 's hurry on 
now.” 

** It is because there is no hurry that I 
have explained this to you here,” he replied. 
**This is a time for waiting instead of hurry- 
112 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ing. You should always give the animal 
plenty of chance to lie down and get sleepy.” 

The day was too cold, however, for longer 
waiting. We went on to the river, and were 
surprised to find that it was frozen over, 
except for long, narrow open places over 
the rapids. As there was no snow on the 
new-formed ice, walking on it was a great 
relief to our tired legs. A couple of hun- 
dred yards down stream we came to the 
fir thicket, and walked past it. Since no 
fresh deer track was to be found coming 
from the place, we knew that the doe was 
somewhere in it. 

Back we turned, and leaving the river, 
began to work our way in among the snow- 
laden trees, which stood so close together 
that we could see no more than twenty or 
thirty feet ahead. I kept well back from 
Pitamakan, in order to give him every pos- 
sible chance. It was an anxious moment. 
Killing that deer meant supplying so many 
of our needs ! 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We had sneaked into the thicket for per- 
haps fifty yards when, for all his care, Pita- 
makan grazed with his shoulder a snow-laden 
branch of balsam, and down came the whole 
fluff of it. I saw the snow farther on burst 
up as if from the explosion of a bomb, and 
caught just a glimpse of the deer, whose 
tremendous leaps were raising the feathery 
cloud. It had only a few yards to go in the 
open ; but Pitamakan had seen it rise from 
its bed, and was quick enough to get a fair 
shot before it disappeared. 

I hit it ! ” he cried. I saw its tail drop ! 
Come on.’’ 

That was a certain sign. When a deer of 
this variety is alarmed and runs, it invariably 
raises its short, white-haired tail, and keeps 
swaying it like the inverted pendulum of a 
clock ; but if even slightly wounded by the 
hunter, it instantly claps its tail tight against 
its body and keeps it there. 

Here is blood ! ” Pitamakan called out, 
pointing to some red spots on the snow. They 
114 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

were just a few scattering drops, but I con- 
soled myself with thinking that an arrow 
does not let out blood like a rifle-ball because 
the shaft fills the wound. We soon came to 
the edge of the fir thicket. Beyond, the 
woods were so open that we could see a long 
way in the direction of the deer’s trail. We 
dropped to a walk, and went on a little less 
hopefully ; the blood-droppings became more 
scattering, and soon not another red spot was 
to be seen — a bad sign. 

At last we found where the deer had 
ceased running, had stopped and turned round 
to look back. It had stood for some time, as 
was shown by the well-trodden snow. Even 
here there was not one drop of blood, and 
worst of all, from this place the deer had 
gone on at its natural long stride. 

^*It is useless for us to trail her farther,” 
said Pitamakan dolefully. “ Her wound is 
only a slight one ; it smarts just enough to 
keep her traveling and watching that we 
don’t get a chance for another shot.” 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I felt bad enough, but Pitamakan felt worse, 
because he thought that he should have made 
a better shot. 

‘‘ Oh, never mind,” I said, trying to cheer 
him. “There are plenty of deer close round 
here, and it is a long time until night. Go 
ahead. We’ll do better next time.” 

“ I am pretty tired,” he complained. “ Per- 
haps we had better go to camp and start out 
rested to-morrow.” 

I had not thought to take the lead and 
break trail a part of the time ; of course he 
was tired. I proposed to do it now, and added 
that it would be a good plan to walk on the 
ice of the river and look carefully into the 
timber along the shores for meat of some 
kind. 

“You speak truth!” he exclaimed, his 
face brightening in a way that was good to 
see. “ Go ahead ; let ’s get over there as quick 
as possible.” 

In a few minutes we were back on the ice, 
where he took the lead again. And now for 

ii6 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the first time since leaving camp — except 
for a few minutes after the shot at the deer 
— I felt sure that with so much game in the 
valley we should kill something. On the 
smooth, new ice, our moccasins were abso- 
lutely noiseless ; we were bound to get a near 
shot. Inside of half an hour we flushed sev- 
eral coveys of grouse, and saw an otter and 
two mink; but there were so many tracks of 
big game winding round on the shore and in 
and out of the timber that we paid no atten- 
tion to the small fry. 

It was at the apex of a sharp point, where 
the river ran right at the roots of some big 
pines, that we saw something that sent a thrill 
of expectation through us; the snow on a 
willow suddenly tumbled, while the wil- 
low itself trembled as if something had 
hit it. We stopped and listened, but heard 
nothing. Then nearer to us the snow fell 
from another bush ; from another closer yet, 
and Pitamakan made ready to shoot just as a 
big cow elk walked into plain view and 
117 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

topped, broadside toward us, not fifty feet 
away. 

“ Oh, now it is meat, sure,” I thought, 
and with one eye on the cow and the other 
on my companion, I waited breathlessly. 

For an instant Pitamakan held the bow 
motionless, then suddenly drew back the cord 
with a mighty pull, whirled half round on 
the slippery ice and sat down, with the bow 
still held out in his left hand. From each 
end of it dangled a part of the cord ! 

That was a terrible disappointment. Such 
a fair chance to get a big fat animal lost, all 
because of that weak bowstring ! The elk had 
lunged out of sight the instant Pitamakan 
moved. He sat for a moment motionless on 
the ice, with bowed head, a picture of utter 
dejection. Finally he gave a deep sigh, got 
up slowly and listlessly, and muttered that 
we had better go home. 

*‘Wait! Let’s knot the cord together,” 
I proposed. “ That may have been the one 
weak place in it.” 

ii8 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

He shook his head in a hopeless way and 
started upstream, but after a few steps halted, 
and said, “ I have no hope, but we ’ll try 
it.” 

The cord had been several inches longer 
than was necessary, and after the knot was 
made it was still long enough to string the 
bow. When it was in place again, Pitamakan 
gave it a half pull, a harder one, then fitted an 
arrow and drew it slowly back ; but before 
the head of the shaft was anywhere near the 
hosVyfrip! went the cord, broken in a new 
place. We were done for unless we could get 
a new and serviceable cord ! Without a word 
Pitamakan started on and I followed, my 
mind all a jumble of impossible plans. 

We followed the winding river homeward 
in preference to the shorter route through 
the deep snow. The afternoon was no more 
than half gone when we arrived at the little 
shelter, rebuilt the fire, and sat down to roast 
some rabbit meat. 

We can’t even get any more rabbits,” I 
119 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

‘‘ There are so many knots in our strings 
that a slip-noose can’t be made with them.” 

** That is true, brother,” said Pitamakan, 
^*so we have but one chance left. If there 
is a bear in that cave across the river we have 
got to kill him.” 

«With clubs?” 

Yes, of course. I told you that my dream 
forbids the cutting of my hair, and so there 
is no way to make a bowstring.” 

Come on ! Come on ! ” I said desper- 
ately. ** Let ’s go now and have it over.” 

We ate our rabbit meat as quickly as pos- 
sible, drank from the spring, and by the help 
of the indispensable *‘anvil” and our cutting- 
stones, we got us each a heavy, green birch 
club. Then we hurried off to the river. Al- 
though much snow had fallen since we had 
seen the black bear’s tracks there, its trail 
was still traceable up through the timber to- 
ward the cave. 


CHAPTER VI 


W ELL, we took up the dim trail 
on the farther side of the river 
and followed it through the tim- 
ber toward the cave at the foot of the cliff, 
but I, for my part, was not at all anxious to 
reach the end of it. Midway up the slope I 
called to Pitamakan to halt. 

Let’s talk this over and plan just what 
we will do at the cave,” I proposed. 

don’t know what there is to plan,” he 
answered, turning and facing me. ** We walk 
up to the cave, stoop down, and shout, 
‘ Sticky-mouth, come out of there ! ’ Out 
he comes, terribly scared, and we stand on 
each side of the entrance with raised clubs, 
and whack him on the base of the nose as 
hard as we can. Down he falls. We hit him 
a few more times, and he dies.” 

^^Yes?” said I. «Yes?” 

I was trying to remember all the bear sto- 
121 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

^ries that I had heard the company men and 
the Indians tell, but I could call to mind no 
story of their attacking a bear with clubs. 

“ Yes ? Yes what? Why did you stop? Go 
on and finish what you started to say.*’ 

“We may be running a big risk,” I re- 
plied. “ I have always heard that any animal 
will fight when it is cornered.” 

“ But we are not going to corner this bear. 
We stand on each side of the entrance; it 
comes out ; there is the big wide slope and 
the thick forest before it, and plenty of room 
to run. We will be in great luck if, with the 
one blow that we each will have time for, 
we succeed in knocking it down. Remem- 
ber this: We have to hit it and hit hard 
with one swing of the club, for it will be 
going so fast that there will be no chance 
for a second blow.” 

We went on. I felt somewhat reassured, 
and was now anxious to have the adventure 
over as soon as possible. All our future de- 
pended on getting the bear. I wondered 


122 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

whether, if we failed to stop the animal with 
our clubs, Pitamakan would venture to defy 
his dream, cut off a braid of his hair, and 
make a bow-cord. 

Passing the last of the trees, we began to 
climb the short, bare slope before the cave, 
when suddenly we made a discovery that 
was sickening. About twenty yards from the 
cave the trail we were following turned 
sharply to the left and went quartering back 
into the timber. We stared at it for a mo- 
ment in silence. Then Pitamakan said, 
dully: — 

Here ends our bear hunt ! He was afraid 
to go to his den because our scent was still 
there. He has gone far off to some other 
place that he knows.” 

The outlook was certainly black. There 
was but one chance for us now, I thought, 
and that was for me to persuade this red 
brother of mine to disregard his dream and 
cut off some of his hair for a bow-cord. But 
turning round and idly looking the other 
123 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

way, I saw something that instantly drove 
this thought from my mind. It was a dim 
trail along the foot of the cliff to the right 
of the cave. I grabbed Pitamakan by the 
arm, yanked him round, and silently pointed 
at it. His quick eyes instantly discovered it, 
and he grinned, and danced a couple of steps. 

‘*Aha! That is why this one turned and 
went away! ’’ he exclaimed. Another bear 
was there already, had stolen his home and 
bed, and he was afraid to fight for them. 
Come on 1 Come on I ’’ 

We went but a few steps, however, before 
he stopped short and stood in deep thought. 
Finally he turned and looked at me queerly, 
as if I were a stranger and he were trying to 
learn by my appearance what manner of boy 
I was. It is not pleasant to be stared at in 
that way. I stood it as long as I could, and 
then asked, perhaps a little impatiently, why 
he did so. The answer I got was unex- 
pected : — 

I am thinking that the bear there in the 
124 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

cave may be a grizzly. How is it? Shall we 
go on and take the chances, or turn back to 
camp ? If you are afraid, there is no use of 
our trying to do anything up there.’’ 

Of course I was afraid, but I was also des- 
perate; and I felt, too, that I must be just 
as brave as my partner. ‘‘Go on!” I said, 
and my voice sounded strangely hollow to 
me. “ Go on ! I will be right with you.” 

We climbed the remainder of the slope 
and stood before the cave. Its low entrance 
was buried in snow, all except a narrow space 
in the centre, through which the bear had 
ploughed its way in, and which, since its 
passing, had partly filled. The trail was so 
old that we could not determine whether a 
black or a grizzly bear had made it. 

But of one thing there could be no doubt : 
the animal was right there in the dark hole, 
only a few feet from us, as was shown by 
the faint wisps of congealed breath floating 
out of it into the cold air. Pitamakan, si- 
lently stationing me on the right of the 
125 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

entrance, took his place at the left side, and 
motioning me to raise my club, shouted, 
** Pahk-si-kwo-yi, sak-sit! ” (Sticky-mouth, 
come out!) 

Nothing came; nor could we hear any 
movement, any stir of the leaves inside. 
Again he shouted ; and again and again, with- 
out result. Then, motioning me to follow, 
he went down the slope. We ’ll have to 
get a pole and jab him,” he said, when we 
came to the timber. *‘Look round for a 
good one.” 

We soon found a slender dead pine, 
snapped it at the base where it had rotted, 
and knocked off the few scrawny limbs. It 
was fully twenty feet long, and very light. 

Now I am the stronger,” said Pitamakan, 
as we went back, so do you handle the pole, 
and I will stand ready to hit a big blow with 
my club. You keep your club in your right 
hand, and work the pole into the cave with 
your left. In that way maybe you will have 
time to strike, too.” 


126 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

When we came to the cave, I found that 
his plan would not work. I could not force 
the pole through the pile of snow at the en- 
trance with one hand, so standing the club 
where I could quickly reach it, I used both 
hands. At every thrust the pole went in 
deeper, and in the excitement of the mo- 
ment I drove it harder and harder, with 
the result that it unexpectedly went clear 
through the obstructing snow and on, and I 
fell headlong. 

At the instant I went down something 
struck the far end of the pole such a rap that 
I could feel the jar of it clear back through 
the snow, and a muffled, raucous, angry yowl 
set all my strained nerves a-quiver. As I was 
gathering myself to rise, the dreadful yowl 
was repeated right over my head, and down 
the bear came on me, clawing and squirm- 
ing. Its sharp nails cut right into my legs. 
I squirmed as best I could under its weight, 
and no doubt went through the motions 
of yelling ; but my face was buried in the 
127 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

snow, and for the moment I could make no 
sound. 

Although I was sure that a grizzly was 
upon me and that my time had come, I con- 
tinued to wiggle, and to my great surprise, 
I suddenly slipped free from the weight, rose 
up, and toppled over backward, catching, as 
I went, just a glimpse of Pitamakan fiercely 
striking a blow with his club. I was on my 
feet in no time, and what I saw caused me 
to yell with delight as I sprang for my club. 
The bear was kicking and writhing in the 
snow, and my partner was showering blows 
on its head. I delivered a blow or two my- 
self before it ceased to struggle. 

Then I saw that it was not a grizzly, but a 
black bear of no great size. Had it been a 
grizzly, I certainly, and probably Pitamakan, 
too, would have been killed right there. 

It was some little time before we could 
settle down to the work in hand. Pitamakan 
had to describe how he had stood ready, and 
hit the bear a terrific blow on the nose as it 

ii8 


.a 



PITAMAKAN FIERCELY STRIKING A BLOW 





i 




4 ' 

« 


% 


i i > 



With the lndi2uis in the Rockies 

came leaping out, and how he had followed 
it up with more blows as fast as he could 
swing his club. Then I tried to tell how I 
had felt, crushed under the bear and expect- 
ing every instant to be bitten and clawed to 
death. But words failed me, and, moreover, 
a stinging sensation in my legs demanded 
my attention ; there were several gashes in 
them from which blood was trickling, and 
my trousers were badly ripped. I rubbed the 
wounds a bit with snow, and found that they 
were not so serious as they looked. 

The bear, a male, was very fat, and was 
quite too heavy for us to carry ; probably it 
weighed two hundred pounds. But we could 
drag it, and taking hold of its fore paws, we 
started home. It was easy to pull it down the 
slope and across the ice, but from there to 
camp, across the level valley, dragging it was 
very hard work. Night had fallen when we 
arrived, and cold as the air was, we were cov- 
ered with perspiration. 

Luckily, we had a good supply of wood 
129 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

on hand. Pitamakan, opening the ash-heap, 
raked out a mass of live coals and started a 
good fire. Then we rested and broiled some 
rabbit meat before attacking the bear. Never 
were there two happier boys than we, as we 
sat before our fire in that great wilderness, 
munched our insipid rabbit meat and gloated 
over our prize. 

The prehistoric people no doubt considered 
obsidian knives most excellent tools ; but to 
us, who were accustomed only to sharp steel, 
they seemed anything but excellent; they 
severely tried our muscles, our patience, and 
our temper. They proved, however, to be 
not such bad flaying instruments. Still, we 
were a long time ripping the bear’s skin from 
the tip of the jaw down along the belly to 
the tail, and from the tail down the inside 
of the legs to and round the base of the feet. 
There were fully two inches of fat on the 
carcass, and when we finally got the hide off, 
we looked as if we had actually wallowed in 
it. By that time, according to the Big Dip- 
130 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

per, it was past midnight, but Pitamakan 
would not rest until he had the back sinews 
safe out of the carcass and drying before the 
fire for early use. 

It is commonly believed that the Indians 
used the leg tendons of animals for bow-cords, 
thread, and wrappings, but this is a mistake ; 
the only ones they took were the back sinews. 
These lie like ribbons on the outside of the 
flesh along the backbone, and vary in length 
and thickness according to the size of the ani- 
mal. Those of a buffalo bull, for instance, are 
nearly three feet long, three or four inches 
wide, and a quarter of an inch thick. When 
dry, they are easily shredded into thread of 
any desired size. 

Those that we mow took from the bear 
were not two feet long, but were more than 
sufficient for a couple of bow-cords. As soon 
as we had them free, we pressed them against 
a smooth length of dry wood, where they 
stuck ; and laying this well back from the 
fire, we began our intermittent night’s sleep. 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

for, as I have said, we had to get up fre- 
quently to replenish the lire. 

The next morning, expecting to have a 
fine feast, I broiled some of the bear meat 
over the coals, but it was so rank that one 
mouthful was more than enough ; so I helped 
Pitamakan finish the last of the rabbit meat. 
He would have starved rather than eat the 
meat of a bear, for to the Blackfeet the bear 
is ** medicine,’’ a sacred animal, near kin to 
man, and therefore not to be used for food. 

Killing a grizzly was considered as great 
a feat as killing a Sioux, or other enemy. 
But the successful hunter took no part of 
the animal except the claws, unless he were 
a medicine-man. The medicine-man, with 
many prayers and sacrifices to the gods, would 
occasionally take a strip of the fur to wrap 
round the roll containing his sacred pipe. 

Pitamakan himself was somewhat averse 
to our making any use of the black bear’s 
hide, but when I offered to do all the work 
of scraping off the fat meat and of drying it, 
132 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

he consented to sleep on it once with me, as 
an experiment, and if his dreams were good, 
to continue to use it. 

I went at my task with good will, and was 
half the morning getting the hide clean and 
in shape to stretch and dry. Pitamakan mean- 
while made two bow-cords of the bear sinew. 
First he raveled them into a mass of fine 
threads, and then hand-spun them into a 
twisted cord of the desired length; and he 
made a very good job of it, too. When he 
had stretched the cords to dry before the fire, 
he sharpened a twig of dry birch for an awl, 
and with the rest of the sinew, repaired our 
badly ripped moccasins. At noon we started 
out to hunt, and on the way dragged the bear 
carcass back to the river and across it into 
the big timber, where later on we hoped to 
use it for bait. 

This day we went up the river, walking 
noiselessly on the ice. From the start we felt 
confident of success; for not only were our 
bow-cords as good as we could desire, but 

133 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the bows were now in fine condition, having 
dried out and become more stiff, yet springy. 
Since, during the latter part of the night, 
more snow had fallen, we could distinguish 
fresh game tracks from old ones. And now 
that there was snow on the ice, we naturally 
expected to see where the hoofed game had 
been crossing the river ; they seldom venture 
out on smooth ice, from fear of slipping and 
injuring themselves. 

The first game we saw were a number 
of ruffed grouse standing in a row at the 
edge of a strip of open water, to take their 
daily drink. They walked away into the wil- 
lows at our approach, and from there flew 
into the firs, where we knocked down four 
of them with our blunt-headed bird arrows. 
I got only one, for of course I was not so 
good a marksman with bow and arrow as 
my partner, who had used the weapon more 
or less since he was old enough to walk. 

Burying the grouse in the snow at the 
edge of the shore, we went on, and presently 

134 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

came to the place where several elk had 
crossed to the north side of the river, browsed 
among a bordering patch of red willows, 
and then gone into the thick firs. We fol- 
lowed them, not nearly so excited now that 
we had trustworthy weapons as we had been 
on the previous hunt. When we came near 
the firs, which covered several acres of the 
bend in the river, Pitamakan sent me round 
to enter the farther side and come through 
the patch toward him, while he took his 
stand close to the place where the band had 
entered. 

‘‘You needn’t come back carefully,” he 
said to me. “ Make all the noise you can — 
the more the better ; then they will come 
running out here on their back trail, and 
I ’ll get some good shots. You ’d better give 
me one of your real arrows, for you will 
probably not get a ghance even for one shot 
at them.” 

That left me with only one arrow with an 
obsidian point, but nevertheless I determined 

135 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

to do my best to get an elk. As Pitamakan 
had remarked about himself, I, too, felt the 
sun power strong within me that morning 
and looked for success. With that feeling, 
call it what you will, — all old hunters will 
understand what I mean, — I was not at all 
surprised, a short time after entering the firs, 
to see, as I was sneaking along through 
them, a big bull elk astride a willow bush 
that he had borne down in order to nip the 
tender tips. 

He was not fifty feet from me, and no 
doubt thought that the slight noise which 
he heard was made by one of his band. He 
could not see me at first, because of a screen 
of fir branches between us, and he had not 
looked up when I made the final step that 
brought me into the open. But when I 
raised the bow, he jerked his head sidewise 
and gathered himself for a jump. 

He was not so quick as I. The strength 
of a giant seemed to swell in my arms ; I 
drew the arrow sliding back across the bow 
136 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

almost to the head with a lightning-like 
pull, and let it go, ^ip ! deep into his side 
through the small ribs. 

Away he went, and I after him, yelling 
at the top of my voice to scare the herd 
toward Pitamakan, if possible. I saw several 
of them bounding away through the firs, but 
my eyes were all for the red trail of the 
bull. And presently I came to the great ani- 
mal, stretched across a snow-covered log and 
breathing its last ; for the arrow had pierced 
its lungs. 

« Wo-ke-hat ! Ni-kaUnit-ab is-stum-ik / 
(Come on ! I have killed a bull !) I yelled. 

And from the far side of the firs came the 
answer: ^^Nis-toah ni-muUuk-stan ! '* (I have 
also killed !) 

That was great news. Although it was 
hard for me to leave my big bull even for 
a moment, I went to Pitamakan, and found 
that he had killed a fine big cow. He had 
used three arrows, and had finally dropped 
her at the edge of the river. 

137 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We were so much pleased and excited 
over our success that it was some time be- 
fore we could cease telling how it all hap- 
pened and settle down to work. We had 
several fresh obsidian flakes, but as the edges 
soon grew dull, we were all the rest of the 
day in getting the hides off the animals and 
going to camp with the meat of the cow. 
The meat of my bull was too poor to use, 
but his skin, sinews, brains, and liver were of 
the greatest value to us, as will be explained. 

** There is so much for us to do that it is 
hard to decide what to do first,’* said Pit- 
amakan that night. 

It was long after dark, and we had just 
gathered the last of a pile of firewood and 
sat ourselves down before the cheerful blaze. 

The first thing is to cook a couple of 
grouse, some elk liver, and hang a side of 
elk ribs over the fire to roast for later eat- 
ing,” I said, and began preparing the great 
feast. 

After our long diet of rabbits, it was a 
138 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

feast. We finished the birds and the liver, 
and then sat v^aiting patiently for the fat 
ribs to roast to a crisp brown as they swung 
on a tripod over the fire. I was now so ac- 
customed to eating meat without salt that 
I no longer craved the mineral, and of course 
my companion never thought of it. In those 
days the Blackfeet used none; their very 
name for it, is-tsik-si-pok’-wi (like fire tastes), 
proved their dislike of the condiment. 

Well, let us now decide what we shall 
do first,'' Pitamakan again proposed. We 
need new moccasins, new leggings and snow- 
shoes. Moreover, we need a comfortable 
lodge. Which shall be first ? " 

The lodge," I answered, without hesit- 
ation. ** But how can we make one ? What 
material can we get for one unless we kill 
twenty elk and tan the skins ? That would 
take a long time." 

‘‘This is a different kind of lodge," he 
explained. “When you came up the Big 
River you saw the lodges of the Earth Peo- 

139 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

pie? Yes. Well, we will build one like 
theirs.’’ 

On the voyage up the Missouri with my 
uncle I had not only seen the lodges of the 
Earth People (Sak-wi Tup-pi), as the Black- 
feet called the Man dans, but I had been in- 
side several of them, and noted how warm 
and comfortable they were. Their construc- 
tion was merely a matter of posts, poles, and 
earth. We agreed to begin one in the morn- 
ing, and do no hunting until it was done. 

The site that we chose for the lodge was 
a mile below camp and close to the river, 
where two or three years before a fire, sweep- 
ing through a growth of ‘‘ lodge-pole ” 
pines, had killed thousands of the young, 
slender trees. In a grove of heavy firs close 
by we began the work, and as every one 
should know how to build a comfortable 
house without the aid of tools and nails, 
I will give some details of the construction. 

In place of the four heavy corner posts 
which the Mandans cut, we used four low- 
140 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

crotched trees that stood about twenty feet 
apart in the form of a square. In the crotches 
on two sides of the square we laid as heavy 
a pole as we could carry, and bolstered up 
the centre with a pile of flat rocks, to keep 
it from sagging. On the joists, as these may 
be called, we laid lighter poles side by side, 
to form the roof. In the centre we left a 
space about four feet wide, the ends of which 
we covered with shorter poles, until we re- 
duced it to a hole four feet square. 

The next task was to get the poles for 
the sides. These we made of the proper 
length by first denting them with sharp- 
edged stones and then snapping them off. 
They were slanted all round against the four 
sides, except for a narrow space in the south 
side, which we left for a doorway. Next 
we thatched the roof and sides with a thick 
layer of balsam boughs, on top of which we 
laid a covering of earth nearly a foot deep. 
This earth we shoveled into an elk hide with 
elk shoulder blades, and then carried each 
141 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

load to its proper place. Lastly, we con- 
structed in the same manner a passageway 
six or eight feet long to the door. 

All this took us several days to accom- 
plish, and was hard work. But when we had 
laid a ring of heavy stones directly under 
the square opening in the roof for a fireplace, 
made a thick bed of balsam boughs, and cov- 
ered it with the bearskin, put up an elkskin 
for a door, and sat us down before a cheer- 
ful fire, we had a snug, warm house, and 
were vastly proud of it. 

Now for some adventure,’’ said Pita- 
makan, as we sat eating our first meal in the 
new house. “ What say you we had best do ? ” 
Make some moccasins and snowshoes,” 
I replied. 

‘‘We can do that at night. Let us — ” 

The sentence was never finished. A terri- 
ble booming roar, seemingly right overhead, 
broke upon our ears. Pitamakan’s brown face 
turned an ashy gray as he sprang up, crying: 

“Run ! Run ! Run !” 


CHAPTER VII 


O UT into the snow we ran, while 
nearer and nearer sounded that ter- 
rific roaring and rumbling ; it was as 
if the round world was being rent asunder. 
Pitamakan led the way straight back from the 
river toward the south side of the valley, and 
we had run probably two hundred yards be- 
fore the noise ceased as suddenly as it had 
begun. We were quite out of breath, and it 
was some time before I could ask what had 
happened. 

** Why, don’t you know?” he said. That 
was a great piece of the ice cliff on the moun- 
tain across there. It broke off and came tear- 
ing down into the valley. Trees, boulders, 
everything in its way were smashed and car- 
ried down. I thought that it was going to 
bury our lodge.” 

Pitamakan wanted to make an early start 
in the morning to view the path of the ava- 

143 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

lanche, but I insisted that we stay at home 
and work hard until the things that we needed 
so much were finished. I had my way. 

Ever since the day of the elk killing, we 
had kept one of the big hides in the river in 
order to loosen the hair. In the morning we 
brought it into the lodge, and laying it over 
a smooth, hard piece of driftwood, grained 
it with a heavy elk rib for a graining-knife. 
It was very hard work. Although we sharp- 
ened an edge of the rib with a piece of 
sandstone and kept it as sharp as possible, we 
had to bear down on it with all our strength, 
pushing it an inch or two at a time in order 
to separate the hair from the skin. Taking 
turns, we were half a day in finishing the 
job. 

We cut the hide into two parts. Of these, 
we dried one, and cut the other into webbing- 
strings for snowshoes — tedious work with 
our obsidian knives. As soon as the half hide 
was dry, I rubbed elk brains and liver well 
into it, and then, rolling it up, laid it away 
144 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

for a couple of days until the mixture could 
neutralize the large amount of glue that is 
in all hides. After that operation, I spent 
half a day in washing the hide and then rub- 
bing and stretching it as it dried. I had then 
a very good piece of elk leather, — so-called 
**buckskin,” — enough for four pairs of 
moccasins. 

These Pitamakan and I made very large, 
so that they would go over the rabbit-skins 
with which we wrapped our feet as a pro- 
tection from the cold. Our needle for sew- 
ing them was a sharp awl made from a piece 
of an elk’s leg bone ; the thread was of elk 
sinew. 

0-wam (shape of eggs) is the Blackfoot 
name for snowshoes. Those that we made 
were neither shaped like an egg nor like any- 
thing else. The bows were of birch, and no 
two were alike, and the webbing was woven on 
them in a way to make a forest Indian laugh. 
Neither Pitamakan’s people nor the other 
tribes of the plains knew anything about 

145 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

snowshoes except in a general way, and I 
had never seen a pair. All things considered, 
however, we did a fairly good job. If the 
shoes were heavy and clumsy, at least they 
were serviceable, for they sank only a few 
inches in the snow when we tested them. 

The evening we finished this work another 
snowstorm came on, which lasted two nights 
and a day, and forced us to postpone our hunt. 
We employed the time in improving the in- 
terior of the lodge by building a heavier 
stone platform for the fire, one that would 
give off considerable heat after we went to 
sleep. 

In order to create a draft for the fire, we 
were forced to admit some air through the 
doorway, and this chilled us. Finally, I re- 
membered that I had seen in the Mandan 
lodges screens several feet high, put between 
the doorway and the fire, in order to force 
the cold air upward. 

We made one at once of poles, backed 
with earth, and then, building a small fire, 
146 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

sat down on our bed to see how it worked; 
no more cold air swept across the floor, and 
we were absolutely comfortable. But in the 
night, although the stones gave out some 
heat, we were obliged to replenish the fire as 
soon as it died down. What we needed in 
order to have unbroken sleep was bedding. 
Pitamakan said that one animal here, the 
white mountain goat, had a warmer, thicker 
coat of fur than the buffalo. We determined 
to get some of the hides and tan them into 
soft robes. 

The morning after the storm broke clear 
and cold, but my partner refused to go up 
into the high mountains after goats. 

<‘We must put it off and do something 
else to-day,” he said. I had a very bad 
dream last night — a confused dream of a 
bear and a goat, one biting and clawing me, 
and the other sticking its sharp horns into 
my side. Now either that is a warning not 
to hunt goats to-day, or it is a sign that the 
bearskin that we are sleeping on is bad medi- 

147 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

cine. This is not the first bad dream that I 
have had since lying on it.’* 

My dreams have all been good since we 
began sleeping on it,” I said. 

‘‘ Then use it by yourself ; I shall not sleep 
on it again.” 

Oh, dreams don’t mean anything ! ” I 
exclaimed. White people pay no attention 
to them.” 

‘‘That is because your gods give you dif- 
ferent medicine from that our gods give us,” 
he said, very seriously. “To us is given the 
dream ; in that way our gods show us the 
things we may and may not do. Do not speak 
lightly of it, lest you bring harm to me.” 

I had sense enough to heed his wish ; never 
afterward, either by word or look, did I cast 
even a shadow of doubt upon his beliefs. For 
that reason, largely, we got along together 
in perfect harmony, as all companions should. 

As there was in his dream nothing about 
other animals, we put on our snowshoes and 
started out to hunt and set traps in the valley. 

148 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

At odd moments we had been making triggers 
of different sizes for deadfalls, and now had 
fifteen ready to use. They were of the ‘‘fig- 
ure 4 pattern ; more complicated than the 
two-piece triggers, but more sure of action. 
Having with the small ones set deadfalls for 
marten, fisher, and mink, we went on up the 
river to the carcasses of the bear and the bull 
elk. We found that both had been almost en- 
tirely eaten by wolverenes, lynxes, and moun- 
tain lions. Having built at each of these places 
a large deadfall, we weighted the drop-bars 
so heavily with old logs that there could be 
no escape for the largest prowler once he 
seized the bait. 

By the time we had the last of the trig- 
gers baited and set up and the little pen built 
behind the drop-bar, night was coming on, 
and we hurried home. We had seen many 
tracks of deer, elk, and moose, but had been 
too busy to hunt any of them. As we neared 
the lodge, another snowstorm set in, but that 
did not disturb us ; in fact, the niore snow 
149 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the better, for with deep snow the hoofed 
game of the valley would be unable to escape 
us. We could choose the fat does and cows 
for our winter’s meat. The bucks and bulls 
were already poor, and the others would lose 
flesh rapidly once they were obliged to 
** yard,” that is, to confine themselves to their 
hard-beaten trails in the limited area of a 
willow patch. 

It was a heavy snow that fell in the night, 
and the next morning snowshoeing was good. 
As Pitamakan had had no bad dreams, and 
the sun was shining in a clear sky, we started 
out for a goat hunt. After climbing the 
mountain-side opposite the lodge for some 
time, we came to a series of ledges, whence 
we obtained a fine view of the country which 
we were living in. The mountain which we 
were on was high and very steep. Not far 
below its summit was the big ice field, ter- 
minating at the edge of a cliff, from which 
a great mass had tumbled, and started the 
avalanche that had frightened us. 

150 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Turning to the east and pointing to the 
backbone of the range, Pitamakan told me 
to notice how absolutely white it all was 
except the perpendicular cliffs, where snow 
could not lie. There was no question but 
that the snow was a great deal deeper up 
there than where we were. 

I thought that there was a longing in Pita- 
makan’s eyes as he gazed at the tremendous 
wall of rock and snow that separated us from 
the plains and from our people, but as he 
said nothing, I kept quiet. For myself, I felt 
that I would give anything, suffer any hard- 
ships, if I could only get once more to Fort 
Benton and my uncle. True, we now had a 
comfortable lodge and plenty of elk meat, 
weapons for killing game, snowshoes for 
traveling, and the outlook for more com- 
forts was favorable. But for all that, the 
future was very uncertain ; there were many 
things that might prevent our ever reaching 
the Missouri ; all nature was arrayed against 
us, and so was man himself. 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Pitamakan roused me from my reverie by 
a tap on the shoulder. 

I can see no goat signs here above us,” 
he said, but look over there at the ledges 
well up on the next mountain to the east. 
Do you see the fresh trails ? ” 

I did. In the smooth, glittering snow they 
were startlingly distinct in their windings 
and turnings from clump to clump of the 
pines on the rocky ledges. None of the ani- 
mals that made them were in sight, but that 
was not strange ; as they were of practically 
the same color as the snow, we could not 
see them at that distance except when they 
happened to get in front of the dark pines 
or rock. Although the distance over there 
was not more than a mile in a straight line, 
a cut gorge between the two mountains 
obliged us to return to the river before 
making the ascent, which more than doubled 
the distance. 

After striking the river, we followed it up 
past the mouth of the gorge, past three of 
152 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the deadfalls set near the shore. The first one 
held a fine, large, dark-furred marten, its 
body nipped across the shoulders and crushed 
by the drop-bar. Taking the little victim 
out, and hanging it in a tree, we reset the 
trap. The next deadfall was unsprung. The 
third, one of the big falls, was down, and we 
hurried as fast as we could to see what it 
held. 

lynx,” I ventured. 

** A wolverene,” Pitamakan guessed. 

We were both wrong. Pinned down by 
the neck was a big mountain lion, to us the 
most valuable of all the animals of the forest. 
The Blackfeet, as well as the Crows and 
Gros Ventres, prized the skins very highly 
for use as saddle-robes — we could get at 
least four horses for this one. Taking such a 
prize made us feel rich. Leaving it in the 
fall until our return, we turned off from the 
river and began the ascent of the mountain 
in high spirits. 

For a time the going was good, although 

153 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

increasingly difficult. After we had passed 
through the big timber, the mountain be- 
came more and more steep, until it was im- 
possible for us to go farther on snowshoes. 
Taking them off, we wallowed up through 
the deep snow from ledge to ledge, keeping 
away from the clumps of stunted pine as 
much as possible, for in them the snow lay 
deepest and was most fluffy. 

The weather was bitterly cold, but we 
were warm enough, even perspiring from 
our exertions. Much as we needed to stop 
and rest at frequent intervals, it was impos- 
sible to do so, for the instant we halted we 
began to shiver. More than once we were 
on the point of giving up the hunt, but each 
time the thought of what a few goat hides 
meant to us strengthened our legs to further 
endeavor. 

I never envied a bird more than I did one 
that I saw that day. A Clark’s crow it was, 
raucous of voice and insolent, that kept 
flying a short distance ahead of us and light- 
IS4 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ing on the pines, where it pretended to pick 
kernels out of the big cones. If we could 
only fly like that, I kept thinking, within a 
moment's time we could be right on the 
goats. 

Strange as it may seem, there was more 
bird life on that bleak, cold height than in 
the forest below. One variety of small, 
sweet singers, flying all round us in large 
flocks, was especially numerous. I wondered 
what they could be. Long years afterward an 
ornithologist told me that they were gray- 
crowned finches — arctic birds that love 
the winter cold and are happiest in a snow- 
drift. 

We saw, too, many chattering flocks of 
Bohemian waxwings, also visitors from the 
arctic regions. Most interesting of all were 
the ptarmigan, small, snow-white grouse 
with jet-black eyes, bill, and toes. Never 
descending to the valleys, either for food or 
shelter, they live on the high, bare mountains 
the year round. They are heavily feathered 
155 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

clear to the toes, so that their feet cannot 
freeze ; and at night, and by day, too, in 
severe weather, instead of roosting in the 
dwarf pines they plunge down into soft snow, 
tunnel under the surface for several feet, and 
then tramp a chamber large enough to sit 
in. These birds were very tame, and often 
allowed us to get within fifteen or twenty 
feet of them before flying or running away. 
Some were saucy and made a great fuss at 
our approach, cocking up their tails and 
cackling, and even making a feint of charg- 
ing us. 

At last we came walking out on a ledge 
that ended at the side of a big gouge in the 
mountain, and on the far verge of it saw a 
goat, a big old fellow, sitting at the edge of 
a small cliff. It was sitting down on its 
haunches, just as a dog does. Should you see 
a cow, a sheep, or any herbivorous animal 
do that, you would think his position ex- 
tremely ludicrous. In the case of the goat, 
because of its strange and uncouth shape, it 
156 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

is more than ludicrous; it is weird. The 
animal has a long, broad-nosed head, set ap- 
parently right against its shoulders ; a long, 
flowing beard hangs from its chin ; its withers 
are extremely high, and its hams low, like 
those of the buffalo. Its abnormally long hair 
flutters round its knees like a pair of em- 
broidered pantalets, and rises eight or ten 
inches in length above the shoulders. The 
tail is short, and so heavily haired that it 
looks like a thick club. Its round, scimitar- 
shaped black horns rise in a backward curve 
from the thick, fuzzy coat, and seem very 
small for the big, deep-chested animal. 

The goat was almost as new to Pitamakan 
as to me. 

*‘What is the matter with it?” he ex- 
claimed. ‘‘Do you think it is sick, or hurt?” 

“ He looks as if he felt very sad,” I re- 
plied. 

And truly the animal did look very de- 
jected, its head sunk on its brisket, its black 
eyes staring vacantly at the valley far below, 
157 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

as if it were burdened with all the pains and 
sorrows of the ages. 

We were so interested in watching it that 
at first we did not see the others, thirteen in 
all, scattered close round on the little ledges 
above him. Some were standing, others lying 
down. One big old billy ’’ lay under a low- 
branched dwarf pine, and now and then would 
raise its head, bite off a mouthful of the long, 
coarse needles, and deliberately chew them. 
We had come out in plain view of the band, 
and now wondered that they had not seen us 
and run away. 

“ Let ’s back up step by step until we are 
in the shelter of the pines back there, then 
look out a way to get to them,” Pitamakan 
proposed. 

On starting to do so, we found that the 
goats had seen us all the time. Two or three 
of them turned their heads and stared at us 
with apparent curiosity ; the old billy at the 
edge of the cliff gave us one vacant stare, 
and resumed his brooding ; the others paid no 
158 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

attention to our movements. Unquestionably 
they had never seen man before, and did not 
consider us enemies because we were not 
four-legged, like the beasts that preyed upon 
them. So instead of backing cautiously, we 
turned and walked into the little clump of 
pines, and beyond them to a deep gutter, 
where we began the difficult task of stalking 
the animals. We had to climb for several 
hundred yards to a broad ledge, follow it for 
perhaps twice that distance, and then work 
our way, as best we could, straight down to 
the goats. 

That was a terrible climb. As the angle 
of the mountain was such that the climb 
would have been difficult on bare rock, you 
can imagine how hard it was to go up in the 
deep snow. Using our snowshoes for shovels 
and taking the lead in turn, we fought our 
way through, upward, inch by inch. More 
than once a mass of snow gave way above 
our gouging, and swept us down a few feet 
or a few yards. Once Pitamakan was buried so 

159 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

deep in it that I was obliged to dig him out ; 
he was gasping for breath by the time I un- 
covered his head. 

On the ledge the going was so level that 
we wore our snowshoes a part of the way 
across, and then, wading to a point directly 
above the goats, we began the descent. That 
was easy. Straight ahead of us the mountain 
dropped in a series of little shelves, or cliffs, 
down which we could easily climb. Stopping 
when we thought we were near to the goats, 
we strung our bows and fitted arrows to them. 
As I was a poor shot, I took but one arrow, 
to be used only in an emergency. Pitamakan 
carried the other four. 

In a few moments we struck a deep and 
well-packed goat trail that meandered along 
a shelf thirty, and in places fifty feet wide. 
Here and there were clumps of dwarf pine 
and juniper that prevented our seeing very 
far ahead, and Pitamakan gave me the sign 
to look sharp for the game. 

A moment later, as we followed the trail 
i6o 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

round some pines, we came face to face 
with a big billy-goat. The instant that he 
saw us he bristled up his hair and came for 
us. Did you ever see a wild pig prance out 
for a fight } Well, that is the way that goat 
came at us — head down and prancing side- 
wise. I don’t know whether we were more 
surprised or scared ; probably scared. The 
sight of those round, sharp black horns made 
our flesh creep ; indeed, the whole aspect of 
the uncouth animal was terrifying. 

Coming at us head on, there was little 
chance for an arrow to do any damage to him. 

Run out that way ! ” Pitamakan cried, 
as he gave me a push. “ I ’ll go this way ! ” 
There was not any running about it; we 
waddled to one side and the other from the 
canon-like trail out into the deep snow, and 
it was remarkable what progress we made. 
As I said, the goat came prancing toward us, 
not jumping full speed, as he might have 
done, so that we had plenty of time to get 
out of the trail. 

i6i 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

When he came opposite he seemed unde- 
cided what to do next. We did not give him 
time to make up his mind. Pitamakan let 
fly an arrow, while I stood ready to shoot if 
need be. But Pitamakan’s shaft sped true ; 
the old billy flinched and humped himself, 
threw up his head with a pitiful, silly ex- 
pression of surprise, and dropped in his tracks. 
We waded back into the trail and examined 
our prize; such heavy, thick, long hair and 
fleece I had never seen on any other animal. 
At the base of the sharp horns were black, 
warty, rubber-like excrescences. Smell 
themP’ Pitamakan bade me, and I did. 
They gave off an exceedingly rank odor of 
musk. 

Pitamakan now pulled out the arrow ; it 
had evidently pierced the heart. He pro- 
posed that we go after the band and kill as 
many as possible ; we needed at least four 
large, or six small skins for a good bed-robe. 

Well, come on, lead the way,” I said. 

He held up his hand, and I could see his 
162 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

eyes grow big as if from fear. “ What is it ?” 
I asked. 

He did not answer, but stood anxiously 
looking this way and that, and soon I, too, 
heard the faint, remote droning noise that had 
alarmed him. We looked at the mountain 
above us, and at others near and far, but there 
was nowhere any sign of an avalanche. 

The droning noise became louder and 
deeper, filling us with dread all the more 
poignant because it was impossible to deter- 
mine the cause. 

The old medicine-men told the truth ! ” 
said Pitamakan. These mountains are no 
place for the Blackfeet. The gods that dwell 
here are not our gods, and they do strange 
and cruel things to us plains people when 
they get the chance.” 

I had nothing to say. We listened ; the 
droning grew louder ; it seemed all about us, 
and yet we could see nothing unusual. 

‘‘Come on ! ” Let’s get away from here !” 
Pitamakan cried. 


CHAPTER VIII 


W 


HERE shall we go?’’ I asked. 


** This noise seems to come from 
everywhere and nowhere.” 


I looked up at the top of the mountain 
which we were on, and saw a long streak of 
snow extending eastward from it like an 
immense pennant. 

** Look ! It is nothing but the wind that 
is making that noise ! ” I exclaimed. ‘‘ See 
how it is driving the snow up there ! ” 

“Yes,” Pitamakan agreed. “But listen. 
The sound of its blowing does not come 
from there any more than from elsewhere. 
It comes from every direction up there in 
the blue.” 

We could now see snow flying from the 
tops of the mountains on the opposite side 
of the valley. In a few moments the whole 
summit of the range was lost in a vast haze 
of drifting, flying snow. But where we were 


164 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

there was only a gentle breeze from the 
west, which did not increase in force. I re- 
membered now that in winter, when fierce 
northwest winds blew across the plains, the 
summit of the Rockies was always hidden by 
grayish-white clouds. It was a strange sensa- 
tion to hear the drone of a terrific wind and 
not feel it, and I said so. 

‘‘ Everything is strange in this country,” 
my partner said, dully. Here Wind-Maker 
lives; and many another of the mountain 
and forest gods. We have to make strong 
medicine, brother, to escape them.” 

This was the first of the terrific winter 
winds that blow across the Northwest plains. 
Many a time thereafter we heard the strange 
roaring sound that seemed to come from 
nowhere in particular ; but down in the 
valley, and even high up on the sides 
of the mountains, near the lodge, there 
was never more than a gentle breeze. Pita- 
makan was always depressed when we heard 
the strange roaring, and it made me feel 
165 


With the Indieuis in the Rockies 

nervous and apprehensive of I knew not 
what. 

We waded and slid and fell down to the 
next ledge, and there, working our way to 
the edge, we saw some of the goats right 
beneath us. There were seven of them, — 
old nannies,” two kids, and “billies” one 
and two years old, — all in a close bunch 
not more than twenty feet below us. Instead 
of running, they stood and stared up at us 
vacuously, while their concave faces seemed 
to heighten their expression of stupid won- 
der. 

Pitamakan shot one of the nannies. At 
the same time I drew my bow on one of 
the goats, but on second thought eased it, for 
I might waste a precious arrow. I had to 
use all my will power in denying myself 
that chance to add another animal to my 
list of trophies. 

Pitamakan was not wasting any time : 
Zip ! Zip ! Zip ! he sped his remaining ar- 
rows, reached out for one of mine, and shot 

i66 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

it just as an old nannie, awaking to the fact 
that something was wrong with her kindred, 
started off to the left at a lumbering gallop, 
more ungainly and racking than that of a 
steer. Here was success, indeed ! I was so 
excited that I went aimlessly from one to 
another of the goats, feeling of their heavy 
coats and smooth, sharp horns. 

Having dressed the animals, we dragged 
them from the ledges out on the steep slide, 
where we fastened them one to another in a 
novel way. Making a slit down the lower 
joint of a hind leg, we thrust a fore leg of 
the next animal through it, — between ten- 
don and bone, — then slit the fore leg in 
the same manner, and stuck a stick in it so 
that it could not slip out. We soon had all 
five animals fastened in line, and then taking 
the first one by the horns, we started down. 

The deep snow was now a help instead 
of a hindrance ; for it kept our tow of game 
from sliding too fast down the tremendously 
steep incline. Knowing that we were likely 
167 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

to Start an avalanche, we kept as close to the 
edge of the timber as we could. Even so, 
I had the feeling which a man has while 
walking on thin ice over deep water. I tried 
to push cautiously through the snow, and 
looked back anxiously whenever the game in 
a particularly steep place came sliding down 
on us by the mere pull of its own weight. 

Pitamakan was less apprehensive. If a 
slide starts, we can probably get out of it by 
making a rush for the timber,” he said, 
** Anyhow, what is to be will be, so don’t 
worry.” 

We came safe to the foot of the slide, but 
had time to skin only one goat before dark ; 
it was slow work with our obsidian knives. 
As we could not safely leave the others un- 
protected from the prowlers during the 
night, we laid them side by side on a heap 
of balsam boughs, where the air could circu- 
late all round them, and Pitamakan hung 
his capote on a stick right over them, in 
order that the sight and odor of it might 

i68 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

prevent any wandering lion, lynx, or wolver- 
ene from robbing us. To go without his 
capote in such cold weather was certainly a 
sacrifice on Pitamakan’s part. 

If I am asked why we took pains to lay 
the game on boughs, the answer is that, 
although any one would think that snow 
would be a natural refrigerator, the opposite 
is the case, for freshly killed animals will 
spoil in a few hours if they are buried in it. 

To keep from freezing, Pitamakan hur- 
ried on to camp, while I followed slowly 
with the goatskin and head. There was not 
time to take the lion or marten from the 
deadfalls. 

When I got to the lodge, Pitamakan had 
a fire burning and the last of the cow elk 
ribs roasting over it. We were wet to the 
skin, of course, but that did not matter. Off 
came our few garments, to be hung a short 
time over the fire and then put on again. 
How cheerful and restful it was to stretch 
out on our balsam beds and enjoy the heat 
169 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

after the long day’s battle with snow and 
precipitous mountain-sides ! 

The next day, and for many days there- 
after, we had much work to keep us busy. 
We skinned the goats, tanned the hides into 
soft robes, and sewed them together in the 
form of a big bag, with the fur side in. The 
night on which we crawled into it for the 
first time was a great occasion. On that 
night, for the very first time since leaving 
the Blackfoot camp, we slept perfectly warm 
and without waking with shivers to rebuild 
the fire. 

The deadfalls also took a great deal of our 
time. Every night some of them were sprung, 
and we found from one to three or four val- 
uable fur animals under the drop-bars. It 
was a tedious job to skin them and properly 
stretch the pelts to dry, but for all that, we 
loved the work and were proud of the re- 
sult. Here and there in the lodge a few mar- 
ten, fisher, wolverene, and lynx skins were 
always drying, and in a corner the pile of 
170 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

cured peltries was steadily growing. Three 
of them were of mountain lions. 

During this time much more snow fell ; 
it was fully six feet deep in the woods when 
the last of the elk hams was broiled and 
eaten. For a day or two we subsisted on goat 
meat, although the best of it had a slight 
musky odor and flavor. As Pitamakan said, 
it was not real food. 

As our bows were not nearly so strong as 
they looked, my partner was always wishing 
for glue, so that we might back them with 
sinew. There was material enough for glue, 
but there was nothing to make it in. 

‘‘The Mandans made pots of earth,'’ I 
said to him one day. “ Perhaps we can make 
one that will stand fire and water.” 

Out we went along the river to look for 
clay. At the first cut-bank that we came to 
I gouged off the snow that thinly coated its 
perpendicular side, and lo ! there was a layer 
of clay six inches thick between two layers 
of gravel. We broke out several large flat 
171 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

chunks of the stuff, — it was frozen, of 
course, — and carried it to the lodge. There, 
breaking it into fine pieces and thawing it, 
we added a small amount of water, and 
worked it into a stiff paste of the right con- 
sistency, as we thought, for moulding. 

Pitamakan, always artistic, fashioned a 
thin bowl like those that he had seen in the 
Mandan village, while I made mine an inch 
thick, with a capacity of not more than two 
quarts. When we baked them in the coals, 
mine cracked, and Pitamakan’s fell to pieces. 

That was discouraging ; evidently the clay 
was not of the right consistency. I worked 
up another portion of clay with less water, 
while my partner added even more water than 
before to his batch. We each soon had a 
bowl fashioned and put to bake. In a few 
minutes the one which Pitamakan had made 
fell to pieces, but mine, which was thick and 
clumsy in shape, seemed to stand the heat 
well. I gradually increased the fire round it, 
and after keeping the blaze up for a long 
172 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

time, I allowed the fire at last to die out 
gradually. The bowl turned out fairly well ; 
for although it had one crack in the side, it 
was dark red in color, and gave a substantial 
ring when we tapped it with a stick. 

However, we took no chances of a mis- 
hap by moving it. We plastered the crack 
with fresh clay, and then, putting into it 
nearly a quart of water, an elk hoof and a 
couple of goat hoofs, we rebuilt the fire just 
close enough to make the mixture simmer, 
and adding more water from time to time 
during the day, patiently awaited results. 

Ai-y I It is real glue ! ’’ Pitamakan ex- 
claimed that evening, after dipping a stick in 
the mess and testing it with his fingers. We 
were quite excited and proud of our success. 
Softening the four elk sinews in the hot 
glue, Pitamakan then plastered a pair of 
them on each bow. The place where the 
ends overlapped at the centre, he bound with 
a sinew wrapping. 

Of course the bows were unstrung when 

173 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the backing was put on, and as soon as the 
work was done, we laid them away from 
the fire, that they might dry slowly. In the 
morning, the first thing, after crawling out 
of our fur nest, we strung and tested them, 
and found that the backing had more than 
doubled their strength and elasticity. Now 
we were ready to hunt our winter meat, and 
after a hurried breakfast of musky goat steak, 
we started in quest of the game. 

Not since the day of the goat hunt had 
we seen any tracks of moose, elk, or deer. 
Pitamakan said that he had heard that the 
deer went from the high mountains down 
toward the lake of the Flatheads to winter, 
and that we need not expect to see any more 
of them. But he added that it did not mat- 
ter, for other game would yard close round 
the lodge. 

Taking a zigzag course and examining 
every red willow patch along our route, we 
went down the valley. As it was a stinging 
cold day, we had our hands tucked up in 

174 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the sleeves of our capotes, and our bows and 
arrows under our arms, for as yet we had no 
mittens. Our legs suffered, too, from need of 
new coverings. 

The first game that we saw was an otter, 
fishing in a dark pool at the foot of a rapid. 
He would crawl out on the ice fringing it, 
sit still for a moment, sniffing the air and 
looking sharp for any enemy, and then make 
a sudden dive. We watched him until he 
had brought up a big trout and had begun 
to eat it, when we turned away without the 
animal seeing us. Except at close range, the 
otter’s eyesight is poor, but he has a keen 
nose and sharp ears. Later we intended to 
set a deadfall for him, if by any means we 
could catch fish to bait it. 

A mile or more below the lodge we came 
to a deep, hard-packed trail, which wound 
and branched in every direction through a 
big red-willow thicket, which we guessed to 
be a moose yard. In many places the willows 
had been browsed off as far out from the 


175 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

paths as the animals could stretch their 
necks. Here and there were large, hard- 
packed circular depressions in the snow where 
they had lain down to rest and sleep, always, 
I imagine, with one of their number on the 
watch for any prowling mountain lion. 

We went down through the centre of the 
yard, although we had some difRculty in 
crossing the deep trails on our snowshoes. 
Soon we sighted the game — two cow 
moose, two calves, and two yearlings. The 
instant that they saw us the old lead cow 
trotted away down the trail, leading the 
others, and then by turning into every suc- 
cessive left-hand fork, tried to circle round 
behind us. When we headed her off, she 
turned and tried to circle round us in the 
other direction. Then Pitamakan and I sep- 
arated, and in that way drove the little band 
steadily ahead of us, until it reached the 
lower end of the yard. 

There, with a tremendous leap, the old 
cow broke out of the yard into the fresh 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

snow, and the way she made it fly behind 
her reminded me of the stern wheel of a 
Missouri River steamboat beating up spray. 
All the others followed her until we came 
close, when all but her calf wheeled in the 
new path and rushed back for the yard. 

They were so close to us that we might 
almost have touched them. Pitamakan shot 
an arrow deep between the ribs of the cow, 
and by a lucky aim I put my one arrow into 
the calf behind her. Both of them fell, but 
the two yearlings, scrambling over their 
bodies, escaped into the yard. 

We went on in pursuit of the other cow 
and her calf. The strength that she displayed 
in breaking her way through six feet of 
snow was wonderful. For at least three hun- 
dred yards she went faster than we could go 
on our web shoes, but after that she gave 
out rapidly, and finally stopped altogether. 

When we came close to her, she plunged 
back past the calf and stood awaiting us, de- 
termined to protect it to the last. All the 
177 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

hair on her shoulders and back was ruffed 
and bristling forward, while her eyes blazed 
with anger, although there was also in them 
the look of terror and despair. When we 
got close to her, she rushed at us. We had 
to do some lively scrambling to keep out of 
her way. But she soon tired, and then while 
I attracted her attention, Pitamakan slipped 
round on the other side of her. As his bow- 
cord twanged, she dropped her head, and 
the light almost instantly went out of her 
eyes. The poor calf met the same fate a mo- 
ment later. It was cruel work, but as neces- 
sary as it was cruel ; we killed that we might 
live. 

There remained the two yearlings, and I 
proposed that we spare them. Pitamakan 
looked at me with surprise. 

‘‘What! Let them go?” he exclaimed. 
“And many winter moons yet before us? 
Why, brother, you talk foolishly I Of course 
we must kill them. Even then we may not 
have enough meat to last until spring.” 

178 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

So we chased them also out into deep 
snow, and did as he said. By the time we 
had one calf skinned we were obliged to go 
home and gather the night’s wood. 

The next day we skinned the rest of the 
animals, cut up the meat, and hung it in 
trees, whence it could be packed home from 
time to time. Two of the hides we put to 
soak in the river, preparatory to graining and 
tanning them. The others we stretched on 
frames and allowed to freeze dry, after which 
we laid them on our couch. 

During the short days we tended the dead- 
falls, skinned and stretched what fur was 
trapped in them, packed in meat and hung 
it beside the lodge, and tanned the two hides. 
Having done the tanning successfully, we 
went into the tailoring business. Pitamakan 
cut pieces of proper shape from the big, soft 
skins, but in the work of sewing I did my 
share. After three or four evenings’ work, 
we were the proud wearers of new shirts, 
new leggings, and new mittens. 

179 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Our earthen pot fell to pieces the day after 
we had made glue in it. That was a serious 
loss, for we had intended to boil meat in it. 
Roasted meat is good, but does not do so 
well as a steady diet. The Indians of the 
North regard boiled meat as we regard bread, 
that is, as the staff of life. Pitamakan, who 
craved it more than I, determined, now that 
we had plenty of hides, to use a part of one 
for a kettle. From one of the yearling moose 
hides he cut a large, round piece, soaked it 
in the river until it was soft, and then sewed 
the edge in pleats to a birch hoop about two 
feet in diameter, so as to make a stiff-rimmed 
bag about as deep as it was wide. With a 
strip of hide he suspended it from a pole in 
the lodge roof. 

Next he set several clean stones in the fire 
to heat, and put some rather finely cut meat 
in the bag with two quarts of water. When 
the rocks were red-hot, he dropped them 
one by one into the bag, and pulled them 
out to reheat as fast as they cooled. In this 
i8o 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

way the meat was boiled. Such was the an- 
cient way of cooking it before the white 
traders brought pots and kettle into the 
North country. 

The meat was not cooked long, only long 
enough, in fact to change its color, and was 
really more nutritious than it would have 
been had it been stewed a long time. We 
enjoyed that first meal of it with keen relish, 
and thereafter ate more boiled than roasted 
meat. 

As the winter snows settled and hardened, 
we saw more and more trails of otter along 
the river, where they traveled from one open 
hole to another to do their fishing, and one 
day we began our campaign against them by 
going fishing ourselves. Our tackle consisted 
of a sinew cord and loop several feet long, 
tied to a long, slender pole. 

In the first open pool that we looked into 
there were numerous trout and suckers; of 
course we tried first to snare the trout. We 
soon learned, however, that it could not be 

i8i 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

done, for they would not allow the loop to 
come nearer than five or six inches to their 
heads, but always drifted downstream from 
it in a tantalizing manner. 

Next, trying the suckers, big, reddish- 
black fellows of two pounds* weight, we 
found them easy to snare. They lay as if 
they were half dead, their bellies close to the 
bottom, and never moved when the loop 
drifted down round their heads, thinking, 
no doubt, that it was but a piece of passing 
water-grass. When the noose was just behind 
the gills, we gave the pole a sharp yank, 
and up came the fish, wriggling and flap- 
ping, helpless in the grip of the tightened 
cord. 

After we caught three of them, we spent 
the rest of the morning setting a deadfall at 
each of three pools where the otters were 
working. But for some time afterward we 
got no otters; of all animals they are the 
shyest and most difficult to trap. It was not 
until all traces of the man scent had died out 
182 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

that one was finally lured by the sucker bait, 
and was killed by the fall-bar. 

As time passed, we set more and more dead- 
falls up and down the valley, so many that 
finally we could not make the round of them 
all in one day. One morning we would attend 
to those lying east of the lodge, and the next 
morning visit those to the west of it. The 
farthest one to the west was at least seven miles 
away, and for some unknown reason more 
fur came to it than to any of the others ; we 
seldom visited it without finding a marten or 
a fisher. Pitamakan called it the nat-o-wap~i 
kyak-ach-is — medicine-trap, as the words 
may be freely translated. Nat-o-wap-i really 
means ‘‘of the sun’’ — “sun-power.” 

As we approached this deadfall one day, 
when we had taken nothing from the other 
traps except a marten that a passing fisher 
had maliciously torn to shreds, Pitamakan 
began the coyote prayer song, because, as he 
said, something had to be done to bring us 
better luck. 

183 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We soon saw the deadfall, noticed that the 
bar was down, and hurried eagerly forward 
to see what it held, while my partner sang 
louder than ever. On coming to it, we found 
a fine, black, fluffy-furred fisher ; whereupon 
Pitamakan raised his hand and began chant- 
ing a prayer of thanks to the gods. 

Meanwhile I saw, a little farther on, a trail 
in the snow which excited my interest, and I 
impatiently waited for him to finish his devo- 
tions to call his attention to it. 

“ Look ! There *s the trail of a bear ! I 
said, although it seemed odd to me that a 
bear should be wandering round in the dead 
of winter. 

We hurried over to it. What we saw made 
us stare wildly round with fright, while we 
quickly strung our bows. It was the trail of 
a man on long, narrow web shoes — an In- 
dian, of course, and therefore an enemy. The 
trail was fresh, too, apparently as fresh as our 
own. And but a moment before, Pitamakan 
had been singing at the top of his voice ! 


CHAPTER IX 


ROSSING the valley from south to 



north in front of us, the snowshoe 


trail disappeared, a hundred yards 
away, in a clump of pines. The Indian, 
brushing against a branch, had relieved it of 
its weight of snow, and its dark green foli- 
age stood out in sharp contrast with the pre- 
vailing white. There was a chance that he 
might still be in that thicket. 

*‘We must know if he is there,” said 
Pitamakan. ‘‘Though he didn’t hear us we 
must still know whence this enemy came, 
and why, and where he is going.” 

We began by going cautiously round the 
pines. From a distance, we could see the trail 
coming out of them on the farther side and 
going on straight to the river, where the water 
fell in cascades over a wide series of low, 
broken reefs. From there the trail followed 
the edge of the open water down past the 


i8j 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

last of the falls, and then showed plain on the 
frozen river as far as we could see. 

Venturing now to follow it to the cascades, 
we learned at a glance, on arriving there, why 
the lone traveler had come into our peaceful 
valley. At the edge of the water the snow 
was all trampled down, and the prints of bare 
feet in it showed that the man had been 
wading in the river. Scattered on the packed 
snow were several fragments of dark green 
rock, one of which Pitamakan picked up and 
examined. 

‘‘This is what he came after,’’ he said. 
“It is pipestone and very soft. Both the 
Kootenays and the Flatheads make their pipes 
of it because it is so easily worked into shape.” 

“Where do you think he came from?” 
I asked. 

“From the camp of his people. These 
mountain Indians winter down along their 
big lake. Very little snow falls there, and 
horse-feed is always good.” 

“ Well, if he came from down there, why 

i86 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

do we find his trail to this place coming 
straight across the valley from the south ? ” 

“ Ah, that is so ! ” Pitamakan exclaimed. 
Come on! We must find out about that.*’ 
We took the man’s back trail, and, pass- 
ing our deadfall, paused to note how plainly 
it could be seen from several points along the 
way. It was a wonder that he had noticed 
neither the deadfall nor our hard-packed, 
snowshoe trail. 

‘‘ The gods were certainly good to us 1 ” 
my partner exclaimed. “ They caused him 
to look the other way as he passed.” 

The back trail led us straight to the foot 
of the steep mountain rising from the valley. 
There, in several places, the snow was scraped 
away to the ground, where evidently the 
man had searched for the pipestone ledge 
that was probably exposed somewhere near. 
Failing to find it, he had been obliged to go 
to the river and wade to the place where it 
again cropped out. His trail to the side hill 
came straight up the valley. 

187 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

We certainly had something to think and 
talk about now — and also to worry about. 
Others of the enemy might come after pipe- 
stone, and there was our trail running straight 
to the place. Going back to the deadfall, we 
took out the fisher, but did not reset the trap ; 
for we determined not to go thereafter within 
several miles of the pipestone falls. Another 
heavy snowfall would pretty much obliterate 
our trail, and we prayed that it would soon 
come. From that day, indeed, our sense of 
peace and security was gone. 

Sitting within the lodge, we always had the 
feeling that the enemy might be close by, wait- 
ing to shoot us when we stepped outside. On 
the daily rounds of our traps we were ever 
watching places where a foe might be lying 
in wait. Pitamakan said that the only thing 
for us to do was to make strong medicine. 
Accordingly, he gave our bearskin to the sun ; 
he lashed it firmly in the fork of a tree, and 
made a strong prayer to the shining god to 
guard us from being ambushed by the enemy. 

i88 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Although we had long since lost track of 
the days of the week, we agreed in thinking 
that the discovery of the man’s trail took 
place in the moon before the moon when 
the web-feet come ” ; or, as the white man 
would say, in February. At the end of the 
next moon, then, — in March, — spring 
would come on the plains. Up where we 
were, however, the snow would last much 
longer — probably until May. Pitamakan 
said that we must leave the valley long be- 
fore then, because with the first signs of 
spring the deer would be working back into 
the high mountains, and the Kootenays would 
follow them. 

How can we do that when, as you say, 
the pass cannot be crossed until summer ? ” 
I asked. 

There is another pass to the south of us,” 
he replied, the Two Medicine pass. There 
is no dangerous place anywhere along it.” 

Then we can easily get out of here ! ” I 
exclaimed. ‘*Let us start soon.” 

189 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

He shook his head. ‘‘No/’ he said. “We 
can’t go until the snow melts from the low 
country where the Kootenays and Flatheads 
winter. We have to go down there to make 
our start on the Two Medicine trail.” 

“ Why so ? ” said I, in surprise. “ Why 
can’t we go straight south from here until 
we strike it ?” 

He laughed grimly. 

“ Between us and the trail lie many canons 
and many mountains that none but the birds 
can cross. Besides, along each stream is a 
trail used by these Indians in their hunts up 
toward the backbone of the range, which is 
like the trail that crosses over to the Two 
Medicine. I could not recognize the right 
one when we came to it, and we should fol- 
low up one after another, and wear ourselves 
out. I remember some landmarks only where 
the right trail leaves the lake and enters the 
heavy timber, and from that place we have 
to start. Also, we have to start from there on 
bare ground ; for if we started on the snow, 
190 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

our trail would be seen and followed, and 
that would be the end for us/’ 

*‘Well, then, let’s go up and look at the 
summit of our pass,” I proposed. “ It may 
not be so bad as you think. Perhaps we 
can find some way to cross the dangerous 
place.” 

He objected that we should waste our 
time, but I kept urging that we must over- 
look no possible chance to escape to the 
plains, until finally I persuaded him. One 
bright morning we put on our snowshoes 
and started. As the going was good on the 
deep, settled snow, we were not long in cov- 
ering the distance to the Salt Springs. Up 
and down the mountainside, all round them, 
was a perfect network of goat trails in the 
snow, and here and there were large and 
small groups of the strange, uncouth animals, 
some lying down, some sitting and staring 
dejectedly off into space, while still others 
were cropping lichens from wind-swept, 
rocky walls. Although several of them were 
191 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

less than three hundred yards away, they paid 
no attention to us. 

After watching some that were feeding on 
the cliff wall, where they looked as if they 
were pasted to it, we came to the conclusion 
that they could travel where a bighorn would 
certainly fall and be dashed to pieces. One 
old billy-goat was almost human in the way 
in which he got over difficult places. After 
standing on his hind legs and gathering all 
the lichen within reach he concluded to as- 
cend to the next shelf. Since there was not 
room for him to back away for a leap, he 
placed his forefeet over the edge, and drew 
himself up on to it — exactly as a man draws 
himself up by the sheer muscular strength of 
his arms. 

Not far beyond the springs, we left the 
last of the timber and began the ascent of the 
summit proper, and soon came into the zone 
of terrific winds ; but fortunately for us, there 
was scarce a breath stirring that day. The 
snow was so hard-packed by the wind that 
192 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

when we removed our snowshoes, our mocca- 
sined feet left no impressions in it. The rocky 
slopes facing the northwest were absolutely 
bare, while those pitching the other way lay 
buried under drifts from five to fifty feet and 
more in depth. 

Late in the afternoon we came to the west 
end of the pass, having made twice as good 
time in the ascent as we had in the descent 
in the autumn with horses. I needed but 
one glance at the place to be convinced that 
it was impassable. The steep slide where my 
horse and I had so nearly been lost was buried 
deep in snow ; towering above it were heavy, 
greenish, concave drifts of snow clinging to 
the knife-edge wall and likely to topple over 
at any moment. Our weight might, and 
probably would, start an avalanche rushing 
down the slide and off into abysmal space. 
We stood in the trail of several goats, which 
had ventured out on the slide for a few 
yards, abruptly turned and retraced their 
steps. 


193 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Even they feared to cross/’ said Pitama- 
kan. “ Come on ! Let ’s go home.” 

I was so disappointed that I had not a word 
to say on the way down. We reached the 
lodge late in the night, made sure that no 
one had been near it during our absence, and 
after building a good fire and eating some 
roast meat, crawled into our fur bag, nearly 
worn out. It had been a long, hard day. 

At this time our catch of fur began to de- 
crease rapidly. It is my belief that the pre- 
datory as well as the herbivorous animals 
never stray very far from the place where 
they are born. 

A case in point is that of an old grizzly 
bear, whose trail could not be mistaken be- 
cause he had lost a toe from his left front 
foot. Every three weeks he crossed the out- 
let of the Upper St. Mary’s Lake, wandered 
up into the Red Eagle Valley, swung round 
northward along the back-bone of the 
Rockies to the Swift Current Waters, and 
thence down across the outlet again. Ob- 
194 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

servation of other animals also leads me to 
believe that they all have their habitual 
rounds. If this is so, it explains why it was 
that our deadfalls held fewer and fewer prizes 
for us, until finally three or four days would 
pass without our finding even a marten to 
reward us for our long, weary tramps. 

The days now grew noticeably longer and 
warmer, until finally snow-shoeing was im- 
possible after nine or ten o’clock in the morn- 
ing. The warm sun turned the snow into 
large, loose, water-saturated grains which 
would give way every few steps and let us 
down clear to the ground, often in places 
where the snow was so deep that we stood, 
so to speak, in a greenish well from which 
we had to look straight up to see the sky. 
It was very difficult to get out of such places. 

Toward the end of our stay we did most 
of our tramping in the early morning, when 
the snow was covered with so hard a crust 
by the night’s frost that it would hold us up 
without snowshoes. 


195 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

One evening we heard the distant cry of 
wild geese. That was our signal for departure. 
We made a last round of the deadfalls, sprung 
each one that was set, and the next day made 
up two bundles of the peltries that we were 
to take with us. There were in all sixty-one 
marten, ten fisher, seventeen mink, five wol- 
verene, one mountain-lion, eight lynx, and 
two otter skins. Fortunately, there was little 
weight in all that number, and we bound 
them so compactly that there was little bulk. 
A quantity of moose meat, cut into thin sheets 
and dried, made up the rest of our pack. Nor 
did we forget the fire-drill and a small, hard 
piece of birch wood that had been seasoning 
by the fire all the winter for a drill base. 

The goatskin sleeping-bag was too heavy 
to take along; it would have added much to 
our comfort, of course, but there was now 
no night cold enough to be very disagreeable 
so long as we could have fire, and of that we 
were assured. However, Pitamakan did not 
intend that the bag should be wasted ; almost 
196 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the last thing that he did was to make an 
offering of it to the sun. Lashing the bundle 
in a tree, he prayed that we might survive 
all perils by the way, and soon reach the 
lodges of our people. 

At sundown we ate our last meal in the 
lodge and enjoyed for the last time its cheer- 
ful shelter. Somehow, as we sat by the fire, 
we did not feel like talking. To go away 
and leave the little home to the elements and 
the prowlers of the night was like parting 
forever from some near and dear friend. 

We waited several hours, until the frost 
hardened the snow; then putting on the 
snowshoes and slinging the packs, we started 
away down the valley. There was certainly 
a lump in my throat as I turned for a last 
look at the lodge, with the smoke of its fire 
curling up from it and beckoning us back to 
rest and sleep. 

Until midnight the stiffening crust occa- 
sionally broke and let us down ; but after that 
time it became so hard that, taking off our 
197 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

snowshoes and slinging them to the packs, 
we made remarkable time down the valley. 

After passing the pipestone falls, we 
entered country new to us, where the valley 
became much wider. Every mile or two a 
branch came into the river, which we were 
obliged to ford, for the ice had gone out of 
the streams. It was no fun to remove mocca- 
sins and leggings, wade through the icy 
water, and then put them on in the snow on 
the other side. 

For several weeks avalanches had been 
thundering down the mountain-sides all 
round us, and this night they seemed more 
frequent than ever. Once one tore its way ^o 
the valley just behind us. Notan hour later, 
Pitamakan’s pack-thong broke, and let his 
bundle down into the snow. As we stopped 
to retie it, there came the rumbling of an 
avalanche, apparently right over our heads. 

I thought that it would strike the valley 
not far below us. “ Come ! Get up ! ” I 
cried. Let ’s run back as fast as we can ! 

198 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Not so ! We must run the other way. 
Can't you hear ? It is going to strike either 
where we are, or close behind us,” Pitamakan 
answered; and grasping my arm, he tried to 
make me go forward with him. 

“ Can’t you hear it there ? ” I shouted, 
taking hold of him in my turn and pulling 
the other way. It is coming down right 
where we stand, or not far below here ! ” 
And thus we stood while the dreadful noise 
increased, until it seemed as if the world was 
being rent wide open. There was a confusion 
of thunderous sound — the grinding of rocks 
and ice, the crashing and snapping of great 
trees. The avalanche came nearer with teriffic 
speed, until finally it filled all the region round 
with such a deafening noise that it was impos- 
sible even to guess where it would sweep down 
into the valley. 

We ran a few steps upstream, then as many 
more back, and finally stood trembling, quite 
uncertain which way to fly. But only for a 
moment ; just ahead of us the great forest 
199 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

trees began to leap out and downward from 
the steep mountain-side, and then the mass 
of the avalanche burst into the flat and piled 
up a hundred feet deep before us — a dirty 
ridge of wrecked mountain-side that ex- 
tended away across the valley to the river. 
There was a last rumble and cracking of 
branches as it settled, and then all was still. 

“You see that I was right,” I said. “It 
did strike below us.” 

“Yes, you heard better than I did,” my 
partner admitted, “ but that is not what saved 
us. I am sure that the gods caused the pack- 
thong to break and stop us; otherwise we 
should have been right in the path of the 
slide.” 

Re-slinging our packs, we climbed the 
rough mass of the slide, round and over big 
boulders, ice blocks, and tree trunks, through 
piles of brush and broken branches. At the 
apex of the heap Pitamakan reached down, 
pulled something from the earth-stained 
snow, and passed it to me. It was the head 


200 



THE AVALANCHE BURST INTO THE FLAT 




With the Indians in the Rockies 

and neck of a mountain goat, crushed almost 
flat, the flesh of which was still warm. 

‘*You see what would have happened to 
us if my pack-thong had not broken,’’ he 
said grimly. 

** It must be that many goats perish in this 
way,” I remarked. 

‘‘Yes, and also many bighorn,” he said. 
“ I have heard the old hunters say that the 
bears, when they first come out in the spring, 
get their living from these slides. They travel 
from one to another, and paw round in search 
of the dead animals buried in them.” 

At daylight we entered an open park 
where we could see back toward the summit. 
There was no doubt that we had traveled a 
long way during the night, for the mountain 
opposite our abandoned lodge looked twenty 
miles distant. The valley here was fully a 
mile wide, and the mountains bordering it 
were covered with pines clear to the summit. 
They were not more than a thousand feet high, 
and the western rim of them seemed not more 


201 


With the Indians in the Rockies’ 

than fifteen miles away. We believed that 
from where they ended the distance could 
not be great to the lake of the Flatheads. 

Down here the snow was only about four 
feet deep, less than half the depth of it where 
we had wintered. The air became warm much 
earlier in the morning than it did up there. 
Using the snowshoes now, as the crust was 
getting weak, we kept going, although very 
tired. During the two hours that we were 
able to travel after sunrise, we passed great 
numbers of elk, and not a few moose, and 
when, finally, the snow grew spongy and 
obliged us to stop for the day, we were plainly 
within the deer range, for both white-tail and 
mule-deer were as plentiful as jack-rabbits 
are in certain parts of the plains. 

We stopped for our much-needed rest on 
a bare sandbar of the river, and with bow 
and drill started a little fire and roasted some 
dry meat. The sun shone warm there, and 
after eating, we lay down on the sand and 
slept until almost night. 


202 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

Starting on again as soon as the snow 
crusted, we traveled the rest of the night 
without any trouble, and soon after day- 
break suddenly passed the snow-line and 
stepped into green - sprouting grass. The 
summer birds had come, and were singing 
all round us. A meadow-lark, on a bush 
close by, was especially tuneful, and Pita- 
makan mocked it : 

Kii-ah-kim ai-siks-is-to-ki ! ” (Your sister 
is dark-complexioned!) he cried gleefully. 
“ Oh, no, little yellow-breast, you make a 
mistake. I have no sister.” 

We were in the edge of a fine prairie 
dotted with groves of pine and cottonwood. 
The land sloped gently to the west. I thought 
that it could not be far in that direction 
to the big lake, but Pitamakan said that 
it was way off to the southwest, perhaps two 
days* journey from where we were. Sud- 
denly he fell on his knees and began with 
feverish haste to dig up a slender, green- 
leaved plant. 


203 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

It is camass!” he cried, holding it up 
and wiping the earth from the white, onion- 
shaped root. ‘‘ Dig ! Dig ! See, there are 
plenty of them all round. Eat plenty of 
them. They are good.” 

So they were; crisp, starchy, and rather 
sweet. After our winter-long diet of meat, 
they were exactly what our appetites craved 
and our systems needed. We made a meal 
of them right there. For once hunger got 
the better of our caution. Laying down our 
pack and snowshoes, we dug up root after 
root, all the time moving out into prairie 
farther and farther from the edge of the 
timber. 

Come on ! Let ’s get our packs and hide 
somewhere for the day,” I said finally. 
am filled with these things to the neck.” 

“ Oh, wait a little ; I want a few more,” 
my partner answered. 

Just then a band of deer burst out of a 
cottonwood grove about five hundred yards 
to the west of us, and as we sat staring and 
204 


With the Indisuis in the Rockies 

wondering what had startled them, three 
Indians came riding like the wind round 
one side of the grove, and four more ap- 
peared on the other side, in swift pursuit of 
the animals. 


CHAPTER X 


D 


ON’T you move!’’ Pitamakan ex- 
I claimed. 


^ He spoke just in time, for I w^as 
on the point of springing up and running for 
the timber. The game — they were mule- 
deer, which are not fleet runners, like the 
white-tail — came bouncing awkwardly to- 
ward us, while the Indians gained on them 
perceptibly. Never before had I felt that I 
was a giant ; but as I sat there in the short 
grass of the open prairie, I felt as if my body 
was actually towering into the sky. I instinct- 
ively tried to make myself of smaller size. 
All my muscles quivered and contracted so 
tensely that the feeling was painful. ‘‘Oh, 
come!” I cried. “Can’t you see that they — ” 
“Be still!” Pitamakan broke in. “The 
wind is from us to them. The deer will soon 
turn. Our one chance is to sit motionless. 
They haven’t seen us yet.” 


206 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

The deer came steadily toward us, jumping 
awkwardly and high. They were now less 
than four hundred yards away, and although 
the wind was increasing, they gave no sign 
of having scented us. 

‘‘ They must turn soon,” Pitamakan said. 
*‘But if they don’t, and you see that the 
Indians are coming for us, string your 
bow. Let us fight our best until our end 
comes.” 

That had been my thought. I had two of 
our five obsidian-pointed arrows. If worse 
came to worst, I hoped that I should be able 
to speed them swift and true. Now the deer 
were less than three hundred yards from us, 
and I gave up all hope that they would turn. 
To me the Indians seemed to be staring 
straight at us instead of at the animals. 

I had started to reach for my bow and 
arrows, which lay on the ground beside me, 
when the deer did turn, suddenly and sharply 
to the right. The pursuers, turning also, 
almost at the same time, gained considerably 
207 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

on them. I realized that we had not been 
discovered. 

The leading hunter now raised his gun 
and fired. The hornless old buck at the head 
of the band sharply shook his head, and 
holding it askew as if the bullet had stung 
it, swerved to the right again, directly away 
from us. The herd followed him, while the 
hunters again made a short cut toward them 
and began shooting. Their backs were now 
to us. 

*‘Run ! Run for the timber ! ” my partner 
commanded ; and grabbing my bow and ar- 
rows, I followed him, faster, probably, than 
I had ever run before. It was a hundred 
yards or more to the timber. As we neared 
it, I began to hope that we should get into 
its shelter unseen. Behind us the hunters 
kept shooting at the deer, but neither of us 
took time to look back until we came to 
our packs, and paused to lift them and the 
snowshoes. 

At that very moment the war-cry of the 
!208 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

enemy was raised, and we knew that they 
had discovered us. We looked, and saw that 
they were coming our way as fast as their 
horses could lope. And how they did yell ! 
There was menace in those shrill staccato 
yelps. 

‘‘We must leave the furs. Just take your 
snowshoes and come on,” said Pitamakan, 
and I grabbed them up and followed him. 

It was only a few yards back in the timber 
to the snow-line. Upon reaching it, I threw 
down my shoes, stuck my toes into the loops, 
and was starting on without fastening the 
ankle-thongs, when my partner ordered me 
to tie them properly. It seemed to me that 
my fingers had never been so clumsy. 

We stepped up on the snow, and found 
that the crust was still strong enough to bear 
our weight, although it cracked and gave 
slightly where the centre of the poor web- 
bing sagged under our feet. At the edge of 
the prairie the timber was scattering; but 
back a short distance there were several dense 


209 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

thickets, and back of them again was the line 
of the heavy pine forest. We made for the 
nearest thicket, while the yells of the enemy 
sounded nearer and louder at every step we 
took. 

It was easy to guess when they came to the 
fur packs, for there was a momentary stop in 
the war-cries as they loudly disputed over the 
possession of them. Then, abandoning their 
horses, they began shooting at us as they ad- 
vanced into the snow, through which they 
broke and floundered at almost every step. 

The advantage was now all with us, pro- 
vided we were not hit. Once I stopped behind 
a tree for an instant and looked back. Three 
of the men had not tried to come on over the 
snow, but standing at the edge of it, loaded 
and fired as fast as possible. The others were 
doing their best to advance over the crust, and 
had our plight not been so desperate, I should 
have laughed to see them. They stepped gin- 
gerly, teetering along with open mouths and 
arms outspread, and sometimes the crust 


210 



I GRABBED THEM UP AND FOLLOWED HIM 





With the Indians in the Rockies 

would bear their weight for three or four 
paces, and so increase their confidence that 
they would quicken their speed, only to break 
through and sink waist-deep. 

I pushed a flap of my old capote out from 
the tree as far as I could with the bow, in the 
hope of drawing their fire ; but, finding that 
they were not to be caught by any such ruse, 
I hurried on. Then several bullets came so 
close to me that I could feel the wind from 
them ; one struck a tree which I was passing, 
and flicked off bits of bark, which stung my 
left cheek and cut the lobe of my left ear. 
When the enemy saw me raise my hand to 
my face, they yelled with triumph, and Pita- 
makan turned to see what had happened. 

Go on ! It is nothing ! ” I called out. 

At that instant another shot was fired, and 
I thought that I heard my partner give a little 
cry of pain ; but he did not flinch, and con- 
tinued on as rapidly as before., When I came 
where he had been, however, I saw that his 
trail was bloody, and I feared the worst, for 
21 1 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I well knew that even with a death-wound 
he would keep on bravely to the very end. 
The rest of the run to the thicket was like 
some terrible dream to me, for I expected 
that every step he made would be his last. 
But finally he passed into the screen of young 
evergreens, and a moment later I was beside 
him, asking how badly he was hurt. 

‘‘ It is only only a flesh-wound here,'" he 
answered, gripping the inner part of his left 
thigh. ‘‘ Come on, we mustn't stop." 

As the enemy could no longer see us, we 
made our way to the line of big timber with- 
out fear of their bullets. They gave a few 
last yells as we went into the thicket, and 
shouted some words at us, which of course 
we could not understand. And then all was 
still. 

Without a word, Pitamakan went on and 
on up the steep mountain-side, and I sadly 
followed him. Soon, coming to an opening 
in the timber, we stepped out into it, until 
we could get a good view of the plain below. 

212 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

The Indians were riding back to where they 
had chased the deer. Soon they dismounted 
and began skinning two that they had killed. 
We removed our snowshoes and sat down on 
them. Pitamakan let down his legging and 
washed his wound with snow ; the bullet had 
split open the skin for a length of several 
inches, but fortunately, had not torn the 
muscles. As soon as the wound was washed 
and dry, I went over to a balsam fir and gath- 
ered the contents of three or four blisters, 
which he smeared all over the raw place. In 
a few minutes he said that the pungent, sticky 
stuff had stopped the burning of the wound. 

We were two sad boys that morning. The 
loss of the furs, for which we had worked 
so hard all winter, was not easy to bear. 
Every few minutes Pitamakan would cry out 
to his gods to punish the thieves, and my 
heart was as sore against them as his. With 
the fur packs we had lost also our fire-drill 
and socket piece. 

<‘But that doesn’t matter,” Pitamakan 
213 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

said. ** We have good bows and can make a 
drill at any time. Perhaps we shall never 
again have any use for one ! ” 

‘‘ How so ? Are we never to eat again ? 
Shall we not need fire of nights to keep us 
warm?” I asked. 

Maybe we shall and maybe not,” Pita- 
makan replied. ‘Ht is not likely that those 
hunters will go home without trying to take 
our scalps with them ; we ’ll soon know about 
that. 

We watched the men in silence for some 
little time. Four of them were round one 
deer, and three were at work skinning the 
other. Soon, however, one man left each 
group and began cutting willows. Soon after- 
ward we saw that those remaining had got 
the deer hides off and were cutting them into 
strips. 

I thought that they would do that,” said 
my partner. They are going to make snow- 
shoes and follow us. Hurry now, and fasten 
on your shoes ! ” 


214 


With the Indi2ms in the Rockies 

I did as I was told and asked no questions. 
Pitamakan limped badly when he started off, 
but made light of his lameness and insisted 
that he felt no pain. By this time the sun 
was fast weakening the crust ; in a short time 
neither we nor our enemy would be able to 
travel, and I told my partner that while they 
were making their shoes, we ought to get so 
far ahead that they never would be able to 
overtake us. 

‘‘They are seven, we only two,” he said. 
“ They will break trail by turns when the 
snow gets soft. Our chance to escape is to get 
back to the dry prairie while they are climb- 
ing the mountain on our trail.” 

That was a plan that had never entered 
my head, but I instantly saw its possibilities. 
Left to my own resources, I should only have 
struggled on and on into the mountains, 
eventually to be captured. 

For an hour or more, just as long as the 
crust would hold, we kept along the side of 
the mountain parallel with the river ; then, 
215 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

when the crust at last broke with us at every 
step, we took off our snowshoes and flound- 
ered down the tremendously steep slope to 
the stream, and turning with it, walked and 
ran along the gravelly and sandy shore. 

So, not later than mid-afternoon, we came 
again to the foot of the mountain, and walk- 
ing to the edge of the timber bordering the 
river, looked out on the prairie from which 
we had been driven in the morning. 

*^Sum-is! Sum-is!** Pitamakan cried, point- 
ing away south to the place of the deer chase. 

‘‘ I-kit-si-kum ! Sap-un-is-tsim ! (Seven ! 
The whole number!) I exclaimed. The 
horses of the enemy were picketed out there 
and quietly grazing, but not one of the hunt- 
ers was to be seen. It seemed too good to be 
true. 

We stood still for some time, while we 
searched the prairie and the mountain-side 
for sign of the enemy. 

They seem all to have taken our trail,” 
said Pitamakan, at last, ‘‘ and maybe that is 
ai6 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the way of it. If one has remained to watch 
the horses, he must be lying in that little 
pine grove near them. Let ’s go down the 
river a little farther, then swing round and 
sneak into the grove from the other side.” 

We hurried on in the river-bottom for 
half a mile, and then swung out across the 
open ground. Our hearts throbbed with 
hope, and with fear, too, as we approached 
the one place where a guard might be sta- 
tioned. 

Stealing into the little grove as silently as 
shadows, we moved through it so slowly that 
a red squirrel digging in the needle-covered 
earth near by never noted our passing. There 
was not more than an acre of the young trees, 
and they covered a space twice as long as 
wide, so we were able to see every foot of it 
as we passed along. When we were nearing 
the farther end, a coyote gave us a terrible 
scare ; as he rose up behind a thin screen of 
low boughs, we could not see at first just 
what it was. 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

I have heard of people turning cold from 
fear ; maybe they do, but fear does not affect 
me in that way. A flash of heat swept through 
me; my mouth grew dry. My sense of be- 
ing perfectly helpless, my expectation that a 
bullet would come tearing into me, was some- 
thing that I shall never forget. 

This time the suspense was short ; the coy- 
ote walked boldly off in the direction in 
which we were going, and since the wind 
was in our faces, we instantly realized that 
no man was concealed out there ahead of him. 
Still, Pitamakan was cautious and, in spite 
of my urgent signs, kept on as stealthily as 
before. But when we came to the edge of 
the grove, we saw the coyote was walking 
jauntily round among the feeding horses. 

Off to the right, near one of the deer car- 
casses, lay the hunters* saddles, saddle-blankets 
and other stuff. We found also a litter of 
willow cuttings and short strips of deer hide 
where the hunters had made their snowshoes. 
The saddles were all home-made, but better 
218 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

than none. We each selected one and the 
best of the blankets, and began saddling the 
two most sturdy and swift-looking of the seven 
animals. That done, we turned the remain- 
ing five loose, after removing their lariats 
and throwing them away. Then we got into 
the saddle and started to gather up the loose 
stock, when I suddenly thought of some- 
thing that we had entirely forgotten in our 
excitement. 

** Pitamakan ! Our furs ! Where can they 
be?” I asked. 

** There ! There ! ” he answered, pointing 
to where the other deer carcass lay. 

And sure enough, there the two packs 
were, just as. we had bound them. 

Here was more luck! We lost no time in 
riding over to the place and picking them 
up ; then, driving the other horses ahead of 
us, we rode away to the southwest as fast as 
possible. Somewhere on the big, timbered 
mountain behind us, the enemy were worm- 
ing along on our trail; or, what is more 
219 


With the Indians in the Rockies' 

likely, completely exhausted from struggling 
in the soft snow, they were waiting for the 
night freeze, to enable them to go on. 

The loose horses trotted ahead of us most 
willingly — suspiciously so; and in the course 
of half an hour, on our coming to a strip of 
timber, the reason for such unusual conduct 
was plain. Here was a broad, hard trail that 
led, no doubt, directly to the camp which they 
had come from in the morning. Of course 
they were willing to be driven back to their 
mates ! And now, as we pushed along this 
highway, one and another of them began to 
nicker, a sure sign that the camp was not far 
distant. 

There were only three or four hundred 
yards of the timber, and then another big 
prairie; and at the farther end of this, a 
couple of miles away, smoke was rising from 
another patch of timber, near which many 
horses were grazing. 

There ! There is the camp of the enemy ! 
Pitamakan cried. ** Already they may have 
220 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

seen us ! Let ’s get back into the timber as 
quick as we can.” 

That was not easy to do ; the loose stock 
wanted to keep right on toward their mates, 
and it required hard riding to head them off 
and turn them back. And then when we did 
accomplish it, they were very restless ; it was 
only by the greatest vigilance that we kept 
them from breaking back. 

While the sun slowly sank toward the 
horizon, we waited in suspense, for there 
was a chance that the party of seven, or some 
other party, might appear at any moment. 
The thought that, after our great success of 
the day, we might lose everything, and our 
lives also, kept us keyed up to an intense 
pitch of excitement. 

Toward sunset there was a commotion 
among the horse herds at the farther end of 
the prairie, and two riders came loping 
straight toward us. At first we were not 
much alarmed, for we thought that they 
were only looking for some stray animal from 
221 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

the bands ; but they kept coming straight on, 
looking neither to the right nor to the left, 
and it was soon plain, either that they had 
seen us and were going to have a look at our 
outfit, or that they were going to take the 
trail through the timber, in search, probably, 
of the missing hunters whose horses we had 
rounded up. There was but one thing for 
us to do — hustle the animals as far from the 
trail as possible; and going at it in a whirl 
of excitement, we hissed at them, flicked 
them with our bridle-ropes, and struck them 
with dead limbs that we snatched from the 
trees. 

N ever were horses so obstinate ; they simply 
ducked their heads to the missiles and milled 
round and round among the trees and under- 
brush. We had got them no more than a 
bow-shot away from the trail, when, looking 
out into the open, we saw that the riders had 
almost reached the thin belt of timber that 
screened us. 

“ Get off your horse and try to hold him 
222 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

still there behind that brush ! ” my partner 
called out ; and off I slid and grasped the 
animal by the nose and one ear. 

, We could plainly hear now the thud of the 
oncoming horses. If one of the seven animals 
we had should nicker, we were lost. Presently 
the two riders entered the timber, and we 
could see them plainly as they sped along the 
trail. Tall, heavy men they were, with long, 
flying hair and grim faces. Each carried a 
long gun. 

When they came in sight, my animal 
pricked up his ears and began to prance and 
toss his head, but I hung to him desperately, 
although I was hoisted more than once clear 
off the ground. As I swung and bobbed in 
the air, I got flashing glimpses of the enemy, 
of Pitamakan struggling with his animal, and 
of the loose stock looking curiously at the 
scene. I expected every instant that one of 
them would whinny, but not one of them 
didl 

The two men passed swiftly along the trail 
223 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

out of sight, and the beat of their horses’ 
hoofs died slowly away. Then once more 
we took hope. 

The sun was down and darkness was steal- 
ing over the land. Faint from this last nar- 
row escape, we got into the saddle once 
more, and leaving the loose stock to stray 
whither they would, rode out into the open 
and took a course down the prairie that 
would leave the big camp far to our right. 
Passing it a little later, we could see the dim, 
yellow glow of the lodge fires, and hear the 
people singing, and the dogs barking now 
and then in answer to the mocking yelps of 
the coyotes. 

We traveled on through the night in a 
partly timbered country, and, by God’s mercy, 
safely forded some streams that were raging 
spring torrents. It was between midnight and 
dawn that we finally gave out, and, picketing 
our animals, lay down and slept. But the first 
peep of the sun roused us. Staggering to our 
feet, stiff and sore, we saddled, and rode on 
224 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

again in a half stupor. It was past noon 
when, from the edge of a sloping plain, we 
saw the big lake of the Flatheads. Pitamakan 
knew the place at once. 

*‘Down there by the shore was the big 
camp the time we were here,” he said, ‘^and 
over there by the side of that little river runs 
the trail to buffalo land.” 

We came to it a little later, a broad, well- 
worn trail that had been used for countless 
years for summer travel by the mountain 
tribes. There were no tracks in it now save 
those of the wolf and the deer. Dismounting 
beside it to rest the horses, we took a few bites 
of dry meat, while they greedily cropped the 
tender spring grass. 

We did not remain there long. Behind us 
stretched the trail of our horses, plain enough 
in the young green grass, a trail that could be 
easily followed from where we had first taken 
the animals. We went on all through the 
afternoon eastward into the mountains. Here 
the mountains were low, and in the still lower 
225 


With the Indieuis in the Rockies 

pass there was no snow to block us. Indeed, 
Two Medicine Pass is so low that you cannot 
tell when you pass the summit except by the 
changed course of the streamlets. 

Late the next afternoon we caught a 
glimpse of the great plains, stretching green 
from the foot of the mountains away east- 
ward to the far horizon ; and at sight of them 
we both shouted, and Pitamakan gave thanks 
to his gods. Down at the foot of the moun- 
tains we saw a little later four buffalo bulls, 
and gave greeting to them as if they were our 
brothers. But not appreciating our feelings, 
they ran lumbering away. 

Two days afterward we came to the edge 
of the hill overlooking Fort Benton and the 
Missouri, our stream of streams. The sight 
of it, and of our own people walking here 
and there outside the fort and along the 
river, brought tears to our eyes and great joy 
and peace to our hearts. 

We urged our weary horses down the hill 
and across the bottom. An Indian boy, hunt- 
226 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

ing horses, met us while we were yet some dis- 
tance out, gave one look at our faces, and fled 
straight to the Blackfeet camp by the fort. 

The people instantly poured out of the 
lodges and came running to greet us. Sur- 
rounded by several hundred of them, all 
talking at once and asking a thousand ques- 
tions, we rode into the great courtyard. 
There, foremost of the company folk who 
came out to see what was the cause of all 
the noise, were my uncle and his wife. 

They fairly tore me from my horse, smoth- 
ered and crushed me with kisses and embraces, 
and were for leading me straight to our quar- 
ters; but I would not budge an inch until I 
had secured my precious pack of furs from the 
saddle and had given the worn animal into 
the keeping of one of Pitamakan’s relatives. 

By that time the factor himself had come 
from his office, and I had then and there to 
tell the story of our winter and our hardships 
in the great mountains. How the people 
hung upon my words, how they applauded 
227 


With the Indians in the Rockies 

and cheered! Without doubt those were the 
proudest moments of my life. For a mere 
boy to hold those seasoned old voyageurs and 
plainsmen spellbound was something of a 
feat, you may be sure. 

But at last it was all over, and once more I 
entered our little house and sat down on my 
own soft couch of buffalo-robes. As the even- 
ing was chilly, a cheerful fire was blazing in 
the hearth. Tsis-tsak-ki bustled round, and 
while cooking the supper, managed to get out 
clean clothes for me, and get ready a tub of 
water, soap, and towels. Never before had I 
seen my Uncle Wesley so excited; he could 
not sit still. Every few moments he would 
come over and pinch my arm, or slap me on 
my back, just to make sure, as he explained, 
that I was really with them once more. 

So ended my first great adventure on the 
frontier that was, and is no more* 


THE END 



CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 


U 


S . A 


THE NEW BOY 

By ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER 


wholesome, natural, grippingly interesting story 
of schoolboy life that will appeal strongly to all young 
people who are interested in athletic sports and the 
life at a big preparatory school.” — Boston Globe. 

“A lively sketch of St. Timothy’s. . . . There is much 
about sports in this book which will interest any boy.” 

— San Francisco Chronicle. 

** A clean, healthy story to be heartily commended.” 

— The Churchman. 

“ It would be hard to find a more fresh, winning and 
true-hearted story.” — Milwaukee Free Press. 


Illustrated. i2mo, ;gi.5o 


HOUGHTON 

MIFFLIN 

COMPANY 



BOSTON 

AND 

NEW YORK 


BOOKS of ADVENTURE for BOYS 

TWO BOYS IN A GYROCAR 

By K. Kenneth-Brown. An exciting story of how two boys win 
a New York to Paris motor race in a car of their own invention. Il- 
lustrated. $1.20 mt. Postpaid $1.31. 

THE CHAMPION OF THE REGIMENT 

By Everett T. Tomlinson. The thrilling experiences and ad- 
ventures at the Siege of Yorktown of Noah Dare. Illustrated. $1.50. 

A LINCOLN CONSCRIPT 

By Homer Greene. A stirring story of a Pennsylvania boy dur- 
ing the Civil War and of the result of the meeting between his father 
and President Lincoln. Illustrated. $1.50. 

HARDING OF ST. TIMOTHY'S 

By Arthur S. Pier. A clean, wholesome, interesting schoolboy 
story. Illustrated. $1.50. 

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST 

By Richard H. Dana, Jr. “ More fascinating than many a story 
of wholly fictitious Springfield Republican. Fully illus- 

trated. $1.50 net. Postpaid $1.65. 

THE WIRELESS TELEGRAPH BOY 

By John Trowbridge. A thoroughly up-to-date story dealing 
with the escape of a young revolutionist from Russia. With frontis- 
piece. $1.25. 

WELLS BROTHERS 

By Andy Adams. Exciting experiences in cow-punching and cattle- 
raising, told for boys. Illustrated. $1.20 net. Postpaid $1.31. 

THE YOUNG ICE WHALERS 

By W INTHROP Packard. The story of two lads who are lost for 
two years in the Arctic ice pack and have many adventures. Illus- 
trated. $1.20 net. Postpaid $1.35. 

ROBINSON CRUSOE 

By Daniel Defoe. A beautiful illustrated edition of this classic. 
$1.50 net. Postpaid $1.68. 


HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 



30 













